j 


LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

University  of  California. 

Class 


SIR    JASPER    CAREW. 


^f$  tik  anD  cfjcpcrtcnccfc 


CHAKLES  LEVER. 


ILLUSTRATED   BY   E.  VAN   MUYDEN. 


OF 


BOSTON: 
LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND   COMPANY. 

1901. 


Copyright,  1894, 
By  Little,  Brown,  and  Company. 


University  Press: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge,  U.S.A. 


DEDICATED    TO 

%  m.  am. 

BY    ONE    WHO   THINKS    HIGHLY    OF    HI9    HEART, 
AND    HOPES    MUCH    FROM    HIS    HEAD. 


193075 


NOTICE. 


It  has  been  constantly  observed  by  writers  of  travels 
that  to  gain  credence  for  any  of  the  strange  incidents  of 
their  journeys,  they  have  been  compelled  to  omit  many 
of  the  most  eventful  passages  of  their  lives.  "  The 
gentlemen,"  and  still  more  the  ladies,  "  who  live  at 
home  at  ease  "  take,  indeed,  but  little  account  of  those 
adventures  which  are  the  daily  lot  of  more  precarious 
existences,  and  are  too  prone  to  set  down  as  marvellous, 
or  worse,  events  which  have  comparatively  little  remark- 
able for  those  whose  fortunes  have  thrown  them  on  the 
highways  of  the  world. 

I  make  this  remark  in  part  to  deprecate  some  of  the 
criticism  which  I  have  seen  pronounced  upon  these 
Memoirs.  It  has  been  said  :  How  could  any  man 
have  met  so  many  adventures?  and  my  answer  is 
simply :  By  change  of  place.  Nothing  more  is  re- 
quired. The  pawn  on  the  chess-board  has  a  life  of  a 
very  uneventful  character,  simply  because  his  progress 
is  slow,  methodical,  and  unchanging.  Not  so  the 
knight,  who,  with  all  the  errantry  of  his  race,  dashes 
here  and  there,  encountering  every  rank  and  condition 
of  men,  —  continually  in  difficulties  himself,  or  the 
cause  of  them  to  others.  What  the  knight  is  to  the 
chess-board,  the  adventurer  is  to  real  life.     The  same 


VI  NOTICE. 

wayward  fortune  and  zig-zag  course  belongs  to  each, 
and  each  is  sure  to  have  his  share  in  nearly  every  great 
event  that  occurs  about  him.  But  I  also  refer  to  this 
subject  on  another  account.  Tale-writers  are  blamed 
for  the  introduction  of  incidents  which  have  little  bear- 
ing on  the  main  story,  or  whose  catastrophes  are  veiled 
in  obscurity.  But  I  would  humbly  ask,  Are  not  these 
exactly  the  very  traits  of  real  life  ?  Is  not  every  man's 
course  checkered  with  incidents,  and  crossed  by  people 
who  never  affect  his  actual  career?  Do  not  things 
occur  every  week  singular  enough  to  demand  a  record, 
and  yet,  to  all  seeming,  not  in  any  way  bearing  upon 
our  fortunes  ?  While  I  need  but  appeal  to  universal 
experience  to  corroborate  me  when  I  say  that  life  is 
little  else  than  a  long  series  of  uncompleted  adventures, 
I  do  not  employ  the  strongest  of  all  argument  on  this 
occasion,  and  declare  that  in  writing  my  Memoirs  I 
had  no  choice  but  to  set  down  the  whole  or  nothing, 
because  I  am  aware  that  some  sceptical  folk  would  like 
to  imagine  me  a  shade,  and  my  story  a  fiction ! 

I  am  quite  conscious  of  some  inaccuracies ;  for  aught 
I  know,  there  may  be  many  in  these  pages  ;  but  I  wrote 
most  of  them  in  very  old  age,  away  from  books,  and 
still  further  away  from  the  friends  who  might  have 
afforded  me  their  counsel  and  guidance.  I  wrote  with 
difficulty  and  from  memory,  —  that  is,  from  a  memory 
in  which  a  fact  often  faded  while  I  transcribed  it,  and 
where  it  demanded  all  my  efforts  to  call  up  the  inci- 
dents, without,  at  the  same  time,  summoning  a  dozen 
others,  irrelevant  and  unwarranted. 

These  same  pages,  with  all  their  faults,  have  been  a 
solace  to  many  a  dreary  hour,  when,  alone  and  com- 
panionless,  I  have  sat  in  the  stillness  of  a  home  that 
no  footsteps  resound  in,  and  by  a  hearth  where  none 


NOTICE.  Vll 

confronts  me.  They  would  be  still  richer  in  comfort 
if  I  thought  they  could  cheer  some  heart  lonely  as  my 
ov.  a,  and  make  pain  or  sorrow  forget  something  of  its 
sting.  I  scarcely  dare  to  hope  for  this,  but  I  wish  it 
heartily !  And  if  there  be  aught  of  presumption  in  the 
thought,  pray  set  it  down  amongst  the  other  errors 
and  short-comings  of 

Jasper  Carew. 


Palazzo  Guidotte,  Senegaglia, 
Jan.  1855. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter  Page 

I.  Some  "  Notices  of  my  Father  and  Mother  "   .  1 

II.    The  Illustration  of  an  Adage 12 

III.  A  Father  and  Daughter 19 

IV.  A  Breakfast  and  its  Consequences   ....  28 
V.    Joe  Raper 39 

VI.  Two  Friends  and  their  Confidences      ...  51 

VII.  Showing  how  Chance  is  Better  than  Design  60 

VIII.     A  State  Trumpeter 70 

IX.     A  Gentleman  Usher 84 

X.     The  Company  at  Castle  Carew 92 

XL     Politics  and  Newspapers 114 

XII.  Showing   that  "What   is  Cradled   in   Shame 

is  Hearsed  in  Sorrow" 125 

XIII.  A  Midnight  Rencontre       133 

XIV.  A  Conference 148 

XV.    Circumstantial  Evidence 158 

XVI.    An  Unlooked-for  Disclosure 169 

XVII.     A  Friend's  Trials 179 

XVIII.     Disappointments 190 

XIX.  "  Fum's  Alley,  near  the  Poddle  "      ....  200 

XX.     Prosperity  and  Adversity 217 

XXI.     At  Rest 229 

XXII.  The  Village  of  Reichenau 237 

XXIII.  A  Mountain  Adventure 246 

XXIV.  "  The  Herr  Robert  " 262 

XXV.     The  Count  de  Gabriac 273 


X  CONTENTS. 

Chapter  Page 

XXVI.  Paris  in  '95 285 

XXVII.  The  Battle  of  the  Sections 296 

XXVIII.  An  Episode  of  my  Life 303 

XXIX.  The  Inn  at  Valence 318 

XXX.  Linange 328 

XXXI.  Havre 336 

XXXII.  My  Reward 351 

XXXIII.  A  Glimpse  of  a  New  Path 360 

XXXIV.  Secret  Service 366 

XXXV.  "Discoveries" 384 

XXXVI.  The  Ordeal 392 

XXXVII.  The  Gloomiest  Passage  of  all    ....  403 

XXXVIII.  The  Streets 417 

XXXIX.  A  Strange  Incident  to  be  a  True  one    .  425 

XL.  At  Sea 441 

XLI.  Lys 450 

XLII.  The  Coming  Shadow 456 

XLIII.  A  Passage  in  the  Drama 477 

XLIV.  The  Price  of  Fame 485 

XLV.  Dark  Passages  of  Life 490 

XLVI.  Ysaffich 503 

XLVII.  Towards  Home 507 

XLVIII.  The  Perils  of  Evil 532 

XLIX.  The  First  Day 543 

L.  A  Trial  —  Conclusion 549 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Brafon  ano  iEtcfjeti  bg  IE.  Fan  fHugom. 

"  With  both  hands  on  my  sword   made   a  cut  at 

his  head  " Frontispiece 

"  Miss  Polly,  youk  servant  " Page  26 

"  He  fell   back   and   rolled   heavily   to   the  ground  — 

DEAD  !  " 178 

A  Strange  Incident 429 

"  I  ran  with  mad  impulse  " 530 


SIR   JASPER    CAREW. 


CHAPTER   I. 

SOME    "  NOTICES    OF    MY    FATHER    AND    MOTHER." 

It  has  sometimes  occurred  to  me  that  the  great  suits  of 
armor  we  see  in  museums,  the  huge  helmets  that  come  down 
like  extinguishers  on  the  penny  candles  of  modern  humanity, 
the  enormous  cuirasses  and  gigantic  iron  gloves,  were  neither 
more  nor  less  than  downright  and  deliberate  cheats  practised 
by  the  "Gents"  of  those  days  for  the  especial  humbug- 
ging of  us,  their  remote  posterity.  It  might,  indeed,  seem 
a  strange  and  absurd  thing  that  any  people  should  take  so 
much  pains,  and  incur  so  much  expense,  just  for  the  sake  of 
mystifying  generations  then  unborn.  Still,  I  was  led  to  this 
conclusion  by  observing  and  reflecting  on  a  somewhat  similar 
phenomenon  in  our  own  day ;  and  indeed  it  was  the  only 
explanation  I  was  ever  able  to  come  to,  respecting  those 
great  mansions  that  we  Irish  gentlemen  are  so  fond  of  rear- 
ing on  our  estates,  "  totally  regardless  of  expense,"  and  just 
as  indifferent  to  all  the  circumstances  of  our  fortune,  and  all 
the  requirements  of  our  station,  —  the  only  real  difference 
being,  that  our  forefathers  were  satisfied  with  quizzing  their 
descendants,  whereas  we,  with  a  livelier  appreciation  of  fun, 
prefer  enjoying  the  joke  in  our  own  day. 

Perhaps  I  am  a  little  too  sensitive  on  this  point ;  but  my 
reader  will  forgive  any  excess  of  irritability  when  I  tell  him 
that  to  this  national  ardor  for  brick  and  mortar  —  this  passion 
for  cutstone  and  stucco  —  it  is  I  owe,  not  only  some  of  the 
mischances  of  my  life,  but  also  a  share  of  what  destiny  has 
in  store  for  those  that  are  to  come  after  me.  We  came  over 
to  Ireland  with  Cromwell;  my  ancestor,  I  believe,  and  I 
l 


2  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

don't  desire  to  hide  the  fact,  was  a  favorite  trumpeter  of  Old 
Noll.  He  was  a  powerful,  big-boned,  slashing  trooper,  with 
a  heavy  hand  on  a  sabre,  and  a  fine  deep,  bass  voice  in  the 
conventicle ;  and  if  his  Christian  name  was  a  little  inconve- 
nient for  those  in  a  hurry,  —  he  was  called  Bind-your-kings- 
in-chains-and-your-nobles-in-links-of-iron  Carew,  —  it  was  of 
the  less  consequence,  as  he  was  always  where  he  ought  to  be, 
without  calling.  It  was  said  that  in  the  eyes  of  his  chief 
his  moderation  was  highly  esteemed,  and  that  this  virtue  was 
never  more  conspicuous  than  in  his  choice  of  a  recompense 
for  his  services ;  since,  instead  of  selecting  some  fine,  rich 
tract  of  Meath  or  Queen's  County,  some  fruitful  spot  on  the 
Shannon  or  the  Blackwater,  with  a  most  laudable  and  exem- 
plary humility  he  pitched  upon  a  dreary  and  desolate  region 
in  the  County  Wicklow,  —  picturesque  enough  in  point  of 
scenery,  but  utterly  barren  and  uncultivated.  Here,  at  a 
short  distance  from  the  opening  of  the  Vale  of  Arklow,  he 
built  a  small  house,  contiguous  to  which,  after  a  few  years, 
was  to  be  seen  an  outlandish  kind  of  scaffolding,  —  a  com- 
posite architecture  between  a  draw-well  and  a  gallows ;  and 
which,  after  various  conjectures  about  its  use,  —  some  even 
suggesting  that  it  was  a  new  apparatus  "  to  raise  the  Devil," 
—  turned  out  to  be  the  machinery  for  working  a  valuable 
lead  mine  which,  by  "  pure  accident,"  my  fortunate  ancestor 
had  just  discovered  there. 

It  was  not  only  lead,  but  copper  ore  was  found  there,  and 
at  last  silver ;  so  that  in  the  course  of  three  generations  the 
trumpeter's  descendants  became  amongst  the  very  richest  of 
the  land  ;  and  when  my  father  succeeded  to  the  estate,  he 
owned  almost  the  entire  country  between  Newrath  Bridge 
and  Arklow.  There  were  seventeen  townlands  in  our  pos- 
session, and  five  mines  in  full  work.  In  one  of  these,  gold 
was  found,  and  several  fine  crystals  of  topaz  and  beryl,  —  a 
few  specimens  of  which  are  yet  to  be  seen  in  the  Irish  Acad- 
emy. It  has  been  often  remarked  that  men  of  ability  rarely 
or  never  transmit  then'  gifts  to  the  generation  succeeding 
them.  Nature  would  seem  to  set  her  face  against  monopo- 
lies, and  at  least,  so  far  as  intellect  is  concerned,  to  be  a 
genuine  "  Free-Trader."  There  is  another  and  very  similar 
fact,  however,  which  has  not  attracted  so  much  notice.     It  is 


SOME   "NOTICES   OF   MY   FATHER   AND   MOTHER."  3 

this :  that  not  only  the  dispositions  and  tastes  of  successive 
generations  change  and  alternate,  but  that  their  luck  follows 
the  same  law,  and  that  after  a  good  run  of  fortune  for  maybe 
a  century  or  two,  there  is  certain  to  come  a  turn  ;  and  thus 
it  is  that  these  ups  and  downs,  which  are  only  remarked  in 
the  lives  of  individuals,  are  occurring  in  the  wider  ocean  of 
general  humanity.  The  common  incident  that  we  so  often 
hear  of  a  man  winning  an  enormous  sum  and  losing  every 
farthing  of  it,  down  to  the  very  half-crown  he  began  with,  is 
just  the  type  of  many  a  family  history,  —  the  only  difference 
being  that  the  event  which  in  one  case  occupied  a  night, 
in  the  other  was  spread  over  two,  or  maybe  three,  hundred 
years. 

When  my  father  succeeded  to  the  family  property,  Ireland 
was  enjoying  her  very  palmiest  days  of  prosperity.  The 
spirit  of  her  nationality,  without  coming  into  actual  collision 
with  England,  yet  had  begun  to  assume  an  attitude  of  proud 
hostility, —  a  species  of  haughty  defiance, —  the  first  effect  of 
which  was  to  develop  and  call  forth  all  the  native  ardor  and 
daring  of  a  bold  and  generous  people.  It  was  in  the  cele- 
brated year  '82  ;  and,  doubtless,  there  are  some  yet  living 
who  can  recall  to  memory  the  glorious  enthusiasm  of  the 
"Volunteers."  The  character  of  the  political  excitement 
was  eminently  suited  to  the  nature  of  the  people.  The 
themes  were  precisely  those  which  lay  fastest  hold  of  enthu- 
siastic temperaments.  Liberty  and  Independence  were  in 
every  mouth.  From  the  glowing  eloquence  of  the  Parlia- 
ment House,  —  the  burning  words  and  heart-stirring  sen- 
tences of  Grattan  and  Ponsonby,  —  they  issued  forth  to 
mingle  in  all  the  exciting  din  of  military  display, — the 
tramp  of  armed  battalions,  and  the  crash  and  glitter  of 
mounted  squadrons.  To  these  succeeded  those  festive  meet- 
ings, resounding  with  all  the  zeal  of  patriotic  toasts,  — 
brilliant  displays  of  those  convivial  accomplishments  for 
which  the  Irish  gentlemen  of  that  day  were  so  justly  famed. 
There  was  something  peculiarly  splendid  and  imposing  in 
the  spectacle  of  the  nation  at  that  moment;  but,  like  the 
grand  groupings  we  witness  upon  the  stage,  all  the  gor- 
geousness  of  the  display  was  only  to  intimate  that  the 
curtain  was  about  to  fall ! 


4  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

But  to  come  back  to  personal  matters.  At  the  first  elec- 
tion which  occurred  after  his  accession  to  the  property,  my 
father  -was  returned  for  Wicklow,  by  a  large  majority,  in 
opposition  to  the  Government  candidate ;  and  thus,  at  the 
age  of  twenty-two,  entered  upon  life  with  all  the  glowing 
ardor  of  a  young  patriot,  —  rich,  well-looking,  and  suffi- 
ciently gifted  to  be  flattered  into  the  self-confidence  of 
actual  ability. 

Parliamentary  conflicts  have  undergone  a  change  just  as 
great  as  those  of  actual  warfare.  In  the  times  I  speak  of, 
tactical  skill  and  subtlety  would  have  availed  but  little,  in 
comparison  with  their  present  success.  The  House  was  then 
a  species  of  tournament,  where  he  who  would  break  his 
lance  with  the  most  valiant  filter  was  always  sure  of  an 
antagonist.  The  marshalling  of  party,  the  muster  of  adhe- 
rents, was  not,  as  it  now  is,  all-sufficient  against  the  daring 
eloquence  of  a  solitary  opponent ;  and  if,  as  is  very  probable, 
men  were  less  under  the  guidance  of  great  political  theorems, 
they  were  assuredly  not  less  earnest  and  devoted  than  we 
now  see  them.  The  contests  of  the  House  were  carried 
beyond  its  walls,  and  political  opponents  became  deadly 
enemies,  ready  to  stake  life  at  any  moment  in  defence  of 
their  opinions.  It  was  the  school  of  the  period ;  nor  can  it 
be  better  illustrated  than  by  the  dying  farewell  of  a  great 
statesman,  whose  last  legacy  to  his  son  was  in  the  words : 
"  Be  always  ready  with  the  pistol."  This  great  maxim,  and 
the  maintenance  of  a  princely  style  of  living,  were  the  two 
golden  rules  of  the  time.  My  father  was  a  faithful  disciple 
of  the  sect. 

In  the  course  of  a  two  years'  tour  on  the  Continent,  he 
signalized  himself  by  various  adventures,  the  fame  of  which 
has  not  yet  faded  from  the  memory  of  some  survivors.  The 
splendor  of  his  retinue  was  the  astonishment  of  foreign 
courts ;  and  the  journals  of  the  time  constantly  chronicled 
the  princely  magnificence  of  his  entertainments,  and  the 
costly  extravagance  of  his  household.  "Wagers  were  the 
fashionable  pastime  of  the  period  ;  and  to  the  absurd  extent 
to  which  this  passion  was  carried,  are  we  in  all  probability 
now  indebted  for  that  character  of  eccentricity  by  which  our 
countrymen  are  known  over  all  Europe. 


SOME   "NOTICES  OE   MY   FATHER   AND   MOTHER."  5 

The  most  perilous  exploits,  the  most  reckless  adventures, 
ordeals  of  personal  courage,  strength,  endurance,  and  ad- 
dress, were  invented  as  the  subject  of  these  wagers ;  and 
there  was  nothing  too  desperately  hazardous,  nor  too  ab- 
surdly ridiculous,  as  not  to  find  a  place  in  such  contests. 
My  father  had  run  the  gauntlet  through  all,  and  in  every 
adventure  was  said  to  have  acquitted  himself  with  honor 
and  distinction. 

Of  one  only  of  these  exploits  do  I  intend  to  make  mention 
here ;  the  reason  for  the  selection  will  soon  be  palpable  to 
my  reader.  At  the  time  I  speak  of,  Paris  possessed  two 
circles  totally  distinct  in  the  great  world  of  society.  One 
was  that  of  the  Court ;  the  other  rallied  around  the  Due 
d'Orleans.  To  this  latter  my  father's  youth,  wealth,  and 
expensive  tastes  predisposed  him,  and  he  soon  became  one 
of  the  most  favored  guests  of  the  Palais  Royal.  Scanty  as 
are  the  materials  which  have  reached  us,  there  is  yet  abun- 
dant reason  to  believe  that  never,  in  the  most  abandoned 
days  of  the  Regency,  was  there  any  greater  degree  of  pro- 
fligacy than  then  prevailed  there.  Every  vice  and  debauchery 
of  a  corrupt  age  was  triumphant,  and  even  openly  defended 
on  the  base  and  calumnious  pretence  that  the  company  was 
at  least  as  moral  as  that  of  the  "  Petit  Trianon."  My  father, 
I  have  said,  was  received  into  this  set  with  peculiar  honor. 
His  handsome  figure,  his  winning  manners,  an  easy  disposi- 
tion, and  an  ample  fortune  were  ready  recommendations  in 
his  favor,  and  he  speedily  became  the  chosen  associate  of 
the  Prince. 

Amongst  his  papers  are  to  be  found  the  unerring  proofs 
of  \vh:it  this  friendship  cost  him.  Continued  losses  at  play 
had  to  be  met  by  loans  of  money,  at  the  most  ruinous  rates 
of  interest ;  and  my  poor  father's  memoranda  are  filled  with 
patriarchal  names  that  too  surely  attest  the  nature  of  such 
transactions.  It  would  seem,  however,  that  fortune  at  last 
took  a  turn,  —  at  least,  the  more  than  commonly  wasteful 
extravagance  of  his  life  at  one  period  would  imply  that  he 
was  a  winner.  These  gambling  contests  between  the  Duke 
and  himself  had  latterly  become  like  personal  conflicts, 
wherein  each  staked  skill,  fortune,  and  address  on  the  issue, 
—  duels  which  involved  passions  just  as  deadly  as  any  whose 


6  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

arbitrament  was  ever  decided  by  sword  or  pistol !  As  luck 
favored  my  father,  the  Duke's  efforts  to  raise  money  were 
not  less  strenuous,  and  frequently  as  costly,  as  his  own ; 
while  on  more  than  one  occasion  the  jewelled  decorations  of 
his  rank  —  his  very  sword  —  were  the  pledges  of  the  play- 
table.  At  last,  so  decidedly  had  been  the  run  against  him 
that  the  Prince  was  forced  to  accept  of  loans  from  my 
father  to  enable  him  to  continue  the  contest.  Even  this 
alternative,  however,  availed  nothing.  Loss  followed  upon 
loss,  till  at  length,  one  night,  when  fortune  had  seemed  to 
have  utterly  forsaken  him,  the  Prince  suddenly  rose  from  the 
table,  and  saying,  "Wait  a  moment,  I'll  make  one  'coup' 
more,"  disappeared  from  the  room.  When  he  returned,  his 
altered  looks  almost  startled  my  father.  The  color  had 
entirely  deserted  his  cheeks ;  his  very  lips  were  bloodless ; 
his  eyes  were  streaked  with  red  vessels ;  and  when  he  tried 
to  speak,  his  first  words  were  inaudible.  Pressing  my 
father  down  again  upon  the  seat  from  which  he  had  arisen, 
he  leaned  over  his  shoulder,  and  whispered  in  a  voice  low 
and  broken, — 

"  I  have  told  you,  Chevalier,  that  I  would  make  one 
'  coup '  more.  This  sealed  note  contains  the  stake  I  now 
propose  to  risk.  You  are  at  liberty  to  set  any  sum  you 
please  against  it.  I  can  only  say,  it  is  all  that  now  remains 
to  me  of  value  in  the  world.  One  condition,  however,  I 
must  stipulate  for ;  it  is  this  :  If  you  win  "  — here  he  paused, 
and  a  convulsive  shudder  rendered  him  for  some  seconds 
unable  to  continue  —  "if  you  win,  that  you  leave  France 
within  three  days,  and  that  you  do  not  open  this  paper  till 
within  an  hour  after  your  departure." 

My  father  was  not  only  disconcerted  by  the  excessive 
agitation  of  his  manner,  but  he  was  little  pleased  with  a 
compact,  the  best  issue  of  which  would  compel  him  to  quit 
Paris  and  all  its  fascinations  at  a  very  hour's  notice.  He 
tried  to  persuade  the  Prince  that  there  was  no  necessity  for 
so  heavy  a  venture ;  that  he  was  perfectly  ready  to  advance 
any  sum  his  Royal  Highness  could  name ;  that  fortune,  so 
persecuting  as  she  seemed,  should  not  be  pushed  further,  at 
least  for  the  present.  In  fact,  he  did  everything  which 
ingenuity  could  prompt  to  decline  the  wager.     But  the  more 


SOME   "NOTICES   OF   MY   FATHER   AND   MOTHER."  7 

eagerly  he  argued,  the  more  resolute  and  determined  became 
the  Duke;  till  at  last,  excited  by  his  losses,  and  irritated  by 
an  opposition  to  which  he  was  but  little  accustomed,  the 
Prince  cut  short  the  discussion  by  the  insolent  taunt  "that 
the  Chevalier  was  probably  right,  and  deemed  it  safer  to 
retain  what  he  had  won,  than  risk  it  by  another  venture." 

"Enough,  sir ;  I  am  quite  ready,"  replied  my  father,  and 
reseated  himself  at  the  table. 

"There's  my  stake,  then,"  said  the  Prince,  throwing  a 
sealed  envelope  on  the  cloth. 

"  Your  Royal  Highness  must  correct  me  if  I  am  in  error," 
said  my  father,  "and  make  mine  beneath  what  it  ought  to 
be."  At  the  same  moment  he  pushed  all  the  gold  before 
him  —  several  thousand  louis  —  into  the  middle  of  the  table. 

The  Prince  never  spoke  nor  moved  ;  and  my  father,  after 
in  vain  waiting  for  some  remark,  said,  — 

"  I  perceive,  sir,  that  I  have  miscalculated.  These  are 
all  that  I  have  about  me ;  "  and  he  drew  from  his  pocket 
a  mass  of  bank-notes  of  considerable  amount.  The  Prince 
still  maintained  silence. 

"If  your  Royal  Highness  will  not  vouchsafe  to  aid  me,  I 
must  only  trust  to  my  unguided  reason,  and,  however  con- 
scious of  the  inferiority  of  the  venture,  I  can  but  stake  all 
that  I  possess.     Yes,  sir,  such  is  my  stake." 

The  Prince  bowed  formally  and  coldly,  and  pushed  the 
cards  towards  my.  father.  The  fashionable  game  of  the  day 
was  called  Barocco,  in  which,  after  certain  combinations,  the 
hand  to  whom  fell  the  Queen  of  Spades  became  the  winner. 
So  evenly  had  gone  the  fortune  of  the  game  that  all  now 
depended  on  this  card.  My  father  was  the  dealer,  and 
turned  up  each  card  slowly,  and  with  a  hand  in  which  not  the 
slightest  tremor  could  be  detected.  The  Prince,  habitually 
the  very  ideal  of  a  gambler's  cold  impassiveness,  was  imitated 
beyond  all  his  efforts  to  control,  and  sat  with  his  eyes 
riveted  on  the  game;  and  when  the  fatal  card  fell  at  length 
from  my  father's  hand,  his  arms  dropped  powerless  at  either 
side  of  him,  and  with  a  low  groan  he  sank  fainting  on  the 
floor. 

He  was  quickly  removed  by  his  attendants,  and  my  father 
never  saw  him  after!  All  his  efforts  to  obtain  an  audience 
were  in  vain  ;  and  when  his  entreaties  became  more  urgent, 


8  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

he  was  given  significantly  to  understand  that  the  Prince  was 
personally  indisposed  to  receive  him.  Another  and  stronger 
hint  was  also  supplied,  in  the  shape  of  a  letter  from  the 
Minister  of  Police,  inclosing  my  father's  passport,  and 
requiring  his  departure,  by  way  of  Calais,  within  a  given 
time. 

Whatever  share  curiosity  as  to  the  contents  of  the  paper 
might  have  had  in  my  father's  first  thoughts,  a  sense  of 
offended  dignity  for  the  manner  of  his  treatment  speedily 
mastered ;  and  as  he  journeyed  along  towards  the  coast,  his 
mind  was  solely  occupied  with  one  impression.  To  be  sud- 
denly excluded  from  the  society  in  which  he  had  so  long 
mixed,  and  banished  from  the  country  where  he  had  lived 
with  such  distinction,  were  indeed  deep  personal  affronts, 
and  not  without  severe  reflection  on  his  conduct  and 
character. 

His  impatience  to  quit  a  land  where  he  had  been  so  grossly 
outraged  grew  greater  with  every  mile  he  travelled ;  and 
although  the  snow  lay  heavily  on  the  road,  he  passed  on, 
regardless  of  everything  but  his  insulted  honor.  It  was 
midnight  when  he  reached  Calais.  The  packet,  which  had 
sailed  in  the  afternoon,  had  just  re-entered  the  port,  driven 
back  by  a  hurricane  that  had  almost  wrecked  her.  The 
passengers,  overcome  with  terror,  fatigue,  and  exhaustion, 
were  crowding  into  the  hotel  at  the  very  moment  of  my 
father's  arrival.  The  gale  increased  in  violence  at  every 
instant,  and  the  noise  of  the  sea  breaking  over  the  old  piles 
of  the  harbor  was  now  heard  like  thunder.  Indifferent  to 
such  warning,  my  father  sent  for  the  captain,  and  asked  him 
what  sum  would  induce  him  to  put  to  sea.  A  positive 
refusal  to  accept  of  any  sum  was  the  first  reply ;  but  by  dint 
of  persuasion,  persistence,  and  the  temptation  of  a  large 
reward,  he  at  last  induced  him  to  comply. 

To  my  father's  extreme  surprise,  he  learned  that  two 
ladies  who  had  just  arrived  at  the  hotel  were  no  less 
resolutely  bent  on  departure,  and,  in  defiance  of  the  gale, 
which  was  now  terrific,  sent  to  beg  that  they  might  be  per- 
mitted to  take  their  passage  in  the  vessel.  To  the  landlord, 
who  conveyed  this  request,  my  father  strongly  represented 
the  danger  of  such  an  undertaking;  that  nothing  short  of 
an  extreme  necessity  would  have  induced  him  to  embark  in 


SOME   "NOTICES   OF   MY  FATHER   AND   MOTHER."  9 

such  a  hurricane ;  that  the  captain,  who  had  undertaken  the 
voyage  at  his  especial  entreaty,  might,  most  naturally,  object 
to  the  responsibility.  In  a  word,  he  pleaded  everything 
against  this  request,  but  was  met  by  the  steady,  unvarying 
reply,  "That  their  necessity  was  not  less  urgent  than  his 
own,  and  that  nothing  less  than  the  impossibility  should 
prevent  their  departure." 

"Be  it  so,  then,"  said  my  father,  whose  mind  was  too 
much  occupied  with  his  own  cares  to  bestow  much  attention 
on  strangers.  Indeed,  so  little  of  either  interest  or  curiosity 
did  his  fellow  travellers  excite  in  him  that  although  he 
assisted  them  to  ascend  the  ship's  side,  he  made  no  effort 
to  see  their  faces  ;  nor  did  he  address  to  them  a  single  word. 
They  who  cross  the  narrow  strait  nowadays,  with  all  the 
speed  of  a  modern  mail-steamer,  can  scarcely  credit  how 
much  of  actual  danger  the  passage  once  involved.  The 
communication  with  the  Continent  was  frequently  suspended 
for  several  days  together ;  and  it  was  no  unusual  occurrence 
to  hear  of  three  or  even  four  mails  being  due  from  France. 
So  great  was  the  storm  on  the  occasion  I  refer  to  that  it  was 
full  two  hours  before  the  vessel  could  get  clear  of  the  port ; 
and  even  then,  with  a  mainsail  closely  reefed,  and  a  mere 
fragment  of  a  foresail,  the  utmost  she  could  do  was  to  keep 
the  sea.  An  old  and  worthless  craft,  she  was  ill-suited  to 
such  a  service ;  and  now,  at  each  stroke  of  the  waves,  some 
bulwark  would  be  washed  away,  some  spar  broken,  or  part 
of  the  rigging  torn  in  shreds.  The  frail  timbers  creaked 
and  groaned  with  the  working,  and  already,  from  the  strain, 
leaks  had  burst  open  in  many  places,  and  half  the  crew  were 
at  the  pumps.  My  father,  who  kept  the  deck  without  quit- 
ting it,  saw  that  the  danger  was  great,  and,  not  improbably, 
now  condemned  his  own  rashness  when  it  was  too  late.  Too 
proud,  however,  to  confess  his  shame,  he  walked  hurriedly 
up  and  down  the  poop,  only  stopping  to  hold  on  at  those 
moments  when  some  tremendous  lurch  almost  laid  the  craft 
under.  In  one  of  these  it  was  that  he  chanced  to  look  down 
through  the  cabin  grating,  and  there  beheld  an  old  lady,  at 
prayer,  on  hor  knees;  her  hands  held  a  crucifix  before  her, 
and  her  upturned  eyes  were  full  of  deep  devotion.  The 
lamp  which  swung  t<>  and  fro  above  her  head  threw  a  pass- 
ing light  upon  her  features,  and  showed  that  she  must  once 


10  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

have  been  strikingly  handsome,  while  even  yet  the  traces 
were  those  that  bespoke  birth  and  condition.  My  father  in 
vain  sought  for  her  companion,  and  while  he  bent  down  over 
the  grating  to  look,  the  captain  came  up  to  his  side. 

"  The  poor  Duchess  is  terribly  frightened,"  said  he,  with 
an  attempt  at  a  smile  which  only  half  succeeded. 

"  How  do  you  call  her?  "  asked  my  father. 

"  La  Duchesse  de  Sargance,  a  celebrated  court  beauty 
some  forty  years  ago.  She  has  been  always  attached  to  the 
Duchess  of  Orleans ;  or,  some  say,  to  the  Duke.  At  least, 
she  enjoys  the  repute  of  knowing  all  his  secret  intrigues  and 
adventures." 

"The  Duke!"  said  my  father,  musing ;  and,  suddenly 
calling  to  mind  his  pledge,  he  drew  nigh  to  the  binnacle  lamp, 
and,  opening  his  letter,  bent  down  to  read  it.  A  small  gold 
locket  fell  into  his  hand,  unclasping  which,  he  beheld  the 
portrait  of  a  beautiful  girl  of  eighteen  or  nineteen.  She  was 
represented  in  the  act  of  binding  up  her  hair;  and  in  the 
features,  the  coloring,  and  the  attitude,  she  seemed  the  very 
ideal  of  a  Grecian  statue.  In  the  corner  of  the  paper  was 
written  the  words,  "  Ma  Fille,"  "  Philippe  d'Orleans." 

"Is  this  possible?  can  this  be  real?"  cried  my  father, 
whose  quick  intelligence  at  once  seemed  to  divine  all.  The 
next  instant  he  was  at  the  door  of  the  cabin,  knocking  impa- 
tiently to  get  in. 

"  Do  you  know  this,  madam?  "  cried  he,  holding  out  the 
miniature  towards  the  Duchess.  "  Can  you  tell  me  aught  of 
this  ?  " 

"  Is  the  danger  over?  Are  we  safe  ?  "  was  her  exclamation, 
as  she  arose  from  her  knees. 

"The  wind  is  abating,  madam,  — the  worst  is  over;  and 
now  to  my  question." 

"  She  is  yours,  sir,"  said  the  Duchess,  with  a  deep  obei- 
sance. "  His  Royal  Highness's  orders  were,  not  to  leave  her 
till  she  reached  England.  Heaven  grant  that  we  are  to  see 
that  hour !  This  is  Mademoiselle  de  Courtois,"  continued 
she,  as  at  the  same  instant  the  young  lady  entered  the  cabin. 

The  graceful  ease  and  unaffected  demeanor  with  which  she 
received  my  father  at  once  convinced  him  that  she  at  least 
knew  nothing  of  the  terrible  compact  in  which  she  was  in- 
volved.    Habituated  as  he  was  to  all  the  fascinations  of 


SOME   "NOTICES   OF   MY   FATHER   AND   MOTHER."       11 

beauty,  and  all  the  blandishments  of  manner,  there  was  some- 
thing to  him  irresistibly  charming  in  the  artless  tone  with 
which  she  spoke  of  her  voyage,  and  all  the  pleasure  she 
anticipated  from  a  tour  through  England. 

"You  see,  sir,"  said  the  Duchess,  when  they  were  once 
more  alone  together,  "Mademoiselle  Josephine  is  a  stranger 
to  the  position  in  which  she  stands.  None  could  have  under- 
taken the  task  of  breaking  it  to  her.  Let  us  trust  that  she  is 
never  to  know  it." 

"  How  so,  madam?  Do  you  mean  that  I  am  to  relinquish 
my  right?"  cried  my  father. 

"Nothing  could  persuade  me  that  you  would  insist  upon 
it,  sir." 

"  You  are  wrong,  then,  madam,"  said  he,  sternly.  "To 
the  letter  I  will  maintain  it.  Mademoiselle  de  Courtois  is 
mine  ;  and  within  twenty-four  hours  the  law  shall  confirm  my 
title,  for  I  will  make  her  my  wife." 

I  have  heard  that  however  honorable  my  father's  inten- 
tions thus  proclaimed  themselves,  the  Duchess  only  could 
see  a  very  lamentable  mesalliance  in  such  a  union ;  nor  did 
she  altogether  disguise  from  my  father  that  his  Royal  High- 
ness was  very  likely  to  take  the  same  view  of  the  matter. 
Mademoiselle's  mother  was  of  the  best  blood  of  France,  and 
illegitimacy  signified  little  if  Royalty  but  bore  its  share  of 
the  shame.  Fortunately  the  young  lady's  scruples  were  more 
easily  disposed  of  :  perhaps  my  father  understood  better  how 
to  deal  with  them ;  at  all  events,  one  thing  is  certain, 
Madame  de  Sargance  left  Dover  for  Calais  on  the  same  day 
that  my  father  and  his  young  bride  started  for  London,  — 
perhaps  it  might  be  exaggeration  to  say  the  happiest,  but  it 
is  no  extravagance  to  call  them  —  as  handsome  a  pair  as 
ever  journeyed  the  same  road  on  the  same  errand.  I  have 
told  some  things  in  this  episode  which,  perhaps,  second 
thoughts  would  expunge-,  and  I  have  omitted  others  that  as 
probably  the  reader  might  naturally  have  looked  for.  But 
the  truth  is,  the  narrative  has  not  been  without  its  difficulties. 
I  have  had  to  speak  of  a  tone  of  manners  and  habits  now 
happily  bygone,  of  which  I  dare  not  mark  my  reprehension 
with  all  the  freedom  I  could  wish,  since  one  of  the  chief  actors 
was  my  father,  —  its  victim,  my  mother. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE   ILLUSTRATION    OF   AN   ADAGE. 

"Marry  iu  haste,"  says  the  adage,  and  we  all  know  what 
occupation  leisure  will  bring  with  it ;  unhappily,  my  father 
was  not  to  prove  the  exception  to  the  maxim.  It  was  not 
that  his  wife  was  wanting  in  any  quality  which  can  render 
married  life  happy  ;  she  was,  on  the  contrary,  most  rarely 
gifted  with  them  all.  She  was  young,  beautiful,  endowed 
with  excellent  health  and  the  very  best  of  tempers.  The 
charm  of  her  manner  won  every  class  with  whom  she  came 
into  contact.  But  —  alas  that  there  should  be  a  but !  —  she 
had  been  brought  up  in  habits  of  the  most  expensive  kind. 
Living  in  royal  palaces,  waited  on  by  troops  of  menials,  with 
costly  equipages  and  splendid  retinues  ever  at  her  command, 
only  mingling  with  those  whose  lives  were  devoted  to  pleas- 
ure and  amusement,  conversant  with  no  other  themes  than 
those  which  bore  upon  gayety  and  dissipation,  she  was  pecu- 
liarly unsuited  to  the  wear  and  tear  of  a  social  system  which 
demanded  fully  as  much  of  self-sacrifice  as  of  enjoyment. 
The  long  lessons  my  father  would  read  to  her  of  deference  to 
this  one,  patient  endurance  of  that,  how  she  was  to  submit  to 
the  tiresome  prosings  of  certain  notorieties  in  respect  of  their 
political  or  social  eminence,  —  she  certainly  heard  with  most 
exemplary  resignation ;  but  by  no  effort  of  her  reason,  nor, 
indeed,  of  imagination,  could  she  attain  to  the  fact  why  any 
one  should  associate  with  those  distasteful  to  them,  nor  ever 
persuade  herself  that  any  worldly  distinction  could  possibly 
be  worth  having  at  such  a  price. 

She  was  quite  sure  —  indeed,  her  own  experience  proved 
it  —  "that  the  world  was  full  of  pleasant  people."  Beauty 
to  gaze  on  and  wit  to  listen  to,  were  certainly  not  difficult  to 
be  found ;  why,  then,  any  one    should    persist  in    denying 


THE   ILLUSTRATION   OF   AN   ADAGE.  13 

themselves  the  enjoyment  derivable  from  such  sources  was  as 
great  a  seeming  absurdity  as  that  of  him  who,  turning  his 
back  on  the  rare  flowers  of  a  conservatory,  would  go  forth  to 
make  his  bouquet  of  the  wild  flowers  and  weeds  of  the  road- 
side. Besides  this,  in  the  world  wherein  she  had  lived,  her 
own  gifts  were  precisely  those  which  attracted  most  admira- 
tion and  exerted  most  sway  ;  and  it  was  somewhat  hard  to 
descend  to  a  system  where  such  a  coinage  was  not  accepted 
as  currency,  but  rather  regarded  as  gilded  counters,  pretty  to 
look  at,  but,  after  all,  a  mere  counterfeit  money,  unrecog- 
nized by  the  mint. 

My  father  saw  all  this  when  it  was  too  late  ;  but  he  lost  no 
time  in  vain  repinings.  On  the  contrary,  having  taken  a 
cottage  in  a  secluded  part  of  North  Wales,  by  way  of  pass- 
ing the  honeymoon  in  all  the  conventional  isolation  that 
season  is  condemned  to,  he  devoted  himself  to  that  educa- 
tional process  at  which  I  have  hinted,  and  began  to  instil 
those  principles,  to  the  difficulty  of  whose  acquirement  I 
have  just  alluded. 

I  believe  that  his  life  at  this  period  was  one  of  as  much 
happiness  as  ever  is  permitted  to  poor  mortality  in  this 
world ;  so,  at  least,  his  letters  to  his  friends  bespeak  it.  It 
may  be  even  doubted  if  the  little  diversities  of  taste  and  dis- 
position between  himself  and  my  mother  did  not  heighten 
the  sense  of  his  enjoyment ;  they  assuredly  averted  that  las- 
situde and  ennui  which  are  often  the  results  of  a  connubial 
duet  unreasonably  prolonged.  I  know,  too,  that  my  poor 
mother  often  looked  back  to  that  place  as  to  the  very  para- 
dise of  her  existence.  My  father  had  encouraged  such  mag- 
nificent impressions  of  his  ancestral  house  and  demesne  that 
he  was  obliged  to  make  great  efforts  to  sustain  the  deception. 
An  entire  wing  had  to  be  built  to  complete  the  symmetry  of 
the  mansion.  The  roof  had  also  to  be  replaced  by  another, 
of  more  costly  construction.  In  the  place  of  a  stucco  colon- 
nade, one  of  polished  granite  was  to  be  erected.  The  whole 
of  the  furniture  was  to  be  exchanged.  Massive  old  cabinets 
and  oaken  chairs,  handsome  enough  in  their  way,  were  but 
ill-suited  to  ceilings  of  fretted  gold,  and  walls  hung  in  the 
rich  draperies  of  Lyons.  The  very  mirrors,  which  had  been 
objects  of   intense  admiration  for  then-  size  and  splendor, 


14  SIR   JASPER  CAREW. 

were  now  to  be  discarded  for  others  of  more  modern  preten- 
sions. The  china  bowls  and  cups  which  for  centuries  had 
been  regarded  as  very  gems  of  virtu  were  thrown  indig- 
nantly aside,  to  make  place  for  Sevres  vases  and  rich  group- 
ings of  pure  Saxon.  In  fact,  all  the  ordinary  comforts  and 
characteristics  of  a  country  gentleman's  house  were  aban- 
doned for  the  sumptuous  and  splendid  furniture  of  a  palace. 
To  meet  such  expenses  large  sums  were  raised  on  loan,  and 
two  of  the  richest  mines  on  the  estate  were  heavily  mort- 
gaged. Of  course  it  is  needless  to  say  that  preparations  on 
such  a  scale  of  magnificence  attracted  a  large  share  of  public 
attention.  The  newspapers  duly  chronicled  the  increasing 
splendor  of  "  Castle  Carew."  Scarcely  a  ship  arrived  with- 
out some  precious  consignment,  either  of  pictures,  marbles, 
or  tapestries  ;  and  these  announcements  were  usually  accom- 
panied by  some  semi-mysterious  paragraph  about  the  vast 
wealth  of  the.  owner,  and  the  great  accession  of  fortune  he  had 
acquired  by  his  marriage.  On  this  latter  point  nothing  was 
known,  beyond  the  fact  that  the  lady  was  of  an  ancient  ducal 
family  of  France,  of  immense  fortune  and  eminently  beauti- 
ful. Even  my  father's  most  intimate  friends  knew  nothing 
beyond  this ;  for,  however  strange  it  may  sound  to  our 
present-day  notions,  my  father  was  ashamed  of  her  illegiti- 
macy, and  rightly  judged  what  would  be  the  general  opinion 
of  her  acquaintances,  should  the  fact  become  public.  At  last 
came  the  eventful  day  of  the  lauding  in  Ireland ;  and,  cer- 
tainly, nothing  could  be  more  enthusiastic  nor  affectionate 
than  the  welcome  that  met  them. 

Personally,  my  father's  popularity  was  very  great ;  politi- 
cally, he  had  already  secured  many  admirers,  since,  even  in 
the  few  months  of  his  parliamentary  life,  he  had  distinguished 
himself  on  two  or  three  occasions.  His  tone  was  manly  and 
independent ;  his  appearance  was  singularly  prepossessing ; 
and  then,  as  he  owned  a  large  estate,  and  spent  his  money 
freely,  it  would  have  been  hard  if  such  qualities  had  not 
made  him  a  favorite  in  Ireland. 

It  was  almost  a  procession  that  accompanied  him  from  the 
quay  to  the  great  hotel  of  the  Drogheda  Arms,  where  they 
stopped  to  breakfast. 

"lam  glad  to  see  you  back  amongst  us,  Carew!  "  said 


THE   ILLUSTRATION   OF   AN  ADAGE.  15 

Joe  Parsons,  one  of  my  father's  political  advisers,  a  county 
member  of  great  weight  with  the  Opposition.  "  We  want 
every  good  and  true  man  in  his  place  just  now." 

"Faith!  we  missed  you  sorely  at  the  Curragh  meetings, 
Watty,"  cried  a  sporting-looking  young  fellow,  in  "  tops 
and  leathers."  "  No  such  thing  as  a  good  handicap,  nor  a 
hurdle  race  for  a  finish,  without  you." 

"Harry  deplores  those  pleasant  evenings  you  used  to 
spend  at  three-handed  whist,  with  himself  and  Dick  Morgan," 
said  another,  laughing. 

"And  where's  Dick?"  asked  my  father,  looking  around 
him  on  every  side. 

"Poor  Dick!"  said  the  last  speaker.  "It's  no  fault  of 
his  that  he  's  not  here  to  shake  your  hand  to-day.  He  was 
arrested  about  six  weeks  ago,  on  some  bills  he  passed  to 
Fagan." 

"  Old  Tony  alive  still?  "  said  my  father,  laughing.  "  And 
what  was  the  amount?"  added  he,  in  a  whisper. 

"A  heavy  figure, — above  two  thousand,  I  believe;  but 
Tony  would  be  right  glad  to  take  five  hundred." 

"And  couldn't  Dick's  friends  do  that  much  for  him?" 
asked  my  father,  half  indignantly.  "  Why,  when  I  left  this, 
Dick  was  the  very  life  of  your  city.  A-  dinner  without  him 
was  a  failure.  Men  would  rather  have  met  him  at  the  cover 
than  seen  the  fox.  His  hearty  face  and  his  warm  shake- 
hands  were  enough  to  inspire  jollity  into  a  Quaker  meeting." 

"All  true,  AVatty  ;  but  there's  been  a  general  shipwreck 
of  us  all,  somehow.  Where  the  money  has  gone,  nobody 
knows ;  but  every  one  seems  out  at  elbows.  You  are  the 
only  fellow  the  sun  shines  upon." 

"Make  hay,  then,  when  it  does  so,"  said  my  father, 
laughing;  and,  taking  out  his  pocket-book,  he  scribbled  a 
few  lines  on  a  leaf  which  he  tore  out.  "  Give  that  to  Dick, 
and  tell  him  to  come  down  and  dine  with  us  on  Friday. 
You'll  join  him.  Quin  and  Parsons  won't  refuse  me.  —  And 
what  do  you  say,  Gervy  Power?  Can  you  spare  a  day  from 
the  tennis-court,  or  an  evening  from  piquet?  —  Jack  Gore, 
I  count  upon  you.  Harvey  Hepton  will  drive  you  down, 
for  I  know  you  never  can  pay  the  post-boys." 

"  Egad,    they  're   too   well   trained    to   expect   it.      The 


16  SIR   JASPER   CAREW. 

rascals  always  look  to  me  for  a  hint  about  the  young  horses 
at  the  Curragh,  and,  now  and  then,  I  do  throw  a  stray  five- 
pound  in  their  way." 

"  We  have  not  seen  madam  yet.  Are  we  not  to  have  that 
honor  to-day?  "  said  Parsons. 

' '  I  believe  not ;  she  's  somewhat  tired.  We  had  a  stormy 
time  of  it,"  said  my  father,  who  rather  hesitated  about  intro- 
ducing his  bachelor  friends  to  my  mother  without  some  little 
preparation. 

Nor  was  the  caution  quite  unreasonable.  Their  style 
and  breeding  were  totally  unlike  anything  she  had  ever  seen 
before.  The  tone  of  familiarity  they  used  towards  each 
other  was  the  very  opposite  to  that  school  of  courtly  distance 
which  even  the  very  nearest  in  blood  or  kindred  observed  in 
her  own  country ;  and  lastly,  very  few  of  those  then  present 
understood  anything  of  French ;  and  my  mother's  English, 
at  the  time  I  speak  of,  did  not  range  beyond  a  few  mono- 
syllables, pronounced  with  an  accent  that  made  them  all  but 
unintelligible. 

"You'll  have  Kitty  Dwyer  to  call  upon  you  the  moment 
she  hears  you're  come,"  said  Quin. 

"  Charmed  to  see  her,  if  she  '11  do  us  that  honor,"  said  my 
father,  laughing. 

"You  must  have  no  common  impudence,  then,  Watty," 
said  another;   "you  certainly  jilted  her." 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind,"  replied  my  father;  "she  it  was 
who  refused  me." 

"Bother!  "  broke  in  an  old  squire,  a  certain  Bob  French 
of  Frenchmount;  "  Kitty  refuse  ten  thousand  a-year,  and  a 
good-looking  fellow  into  the  bargain !  Kitty 's  no  fool ; 
and  she  knows  mankind  just  as  well  as  she  knows  horse- 
flesh, —  and,  faix,  that's  not  saying  a  trifle." 

"  How  is  she  looking?  "  asked  my  father,  rather  anxious 
to  change  the  topic. 

"  Just  as  you  saw  her  last.  She  hurt  her  back  at  an  ugly 
fence  in  Kennedy's  park,  last  winter ;  but  she  's  all  right 
again,  and  riding  the  little  black  mare  that  killed  Morrissy, 
as  neatly  as  ever !  " 

"  She  's  a  fine  dashing  girl !  "  said  my  father. 

"No,  but  she's  a  good  girl,"  said  the  old  squire,  who 
evidently  admired  her  greatly.     "  She  rode  eight  miles  of  a 


THE   ILLUSTRATION   OF   AN   ADAGE.  17 

dark  night,  three  weeks  ago,  to  bring  the  doctor  to  old 
Hackett's  wife,  and  it  raining  like  a  waterfall ;  and  she  gave 
him  two  guineas  for  the  job.  Ay,  faith,  and  maybe  at  the 
same  time,  two  guineas  was  two  guineas  to  her." 

"  Why,  Mat  Dwyer  is  not  so  hard-up  as  that  comes  to?  " 
exclaimed  my  father. 

"  Is  n't  he,  faith?  I  don't  believe  he  knows  where  to  lay 
his  hand  on  a  fifty-pound  note  this  morning.  The  truth  is, 
Walter,  Mat  ran  himself  out  for  you." 

"  For  me  !     How  do  you  mean  for  me?  " 

"  Just  because  he  thought  you  'd  marry  Kitty.  Oh  !  you 
need  n't  laugh.  There  's  many  more  thought  the  same  thing. 
You  remember  yourself  that  you  were  never  out  of  the  house. 
You  used  to  pretend  that  Bishop's-Lough  was  a  better  cover 
than  your  own,  —  that  it  was  more  of  a  grass  country  to  ride 
over.  Then,  when  summer  came,  you  took  to  fishing,  as  if 
your  bread  depended  on  it ;  and  the  devil  a  salmon  you  ever 
hooked." 

A  roar  of  laughter  from  the  surrounders  showed  how  they 
relished  the  confusion  of  my  father's  manner. 

' '  Even  all  that  will  scarcely  amount  to  an  offer  of  mar- 
riage," said  he,  in  half  pique. 

"  Nobody  said  it  would,"  retorted  the  other;  "  but  when 
you  teach  a  girl  to  risk  her  life,  four  days  in  the  week,  over 
the  highest  fences  in  a  hunting  country,  —  when  she  gives 
up  stitching  and  embroidery,  to  tying  flies  and  making 
brown  hackles,  —  when  she  'd  rather  drive  a  tandem  than 
sit  quiet  in  a  coach  and  four,  —  why,  she  's  as  good  as 
spoiled  for  any  one  else.  'T  is  the  same  with  women  as 
with  young  horses, — every  one  likes  to  break  them  in  for 
himself.  Some  like  a  puller;  others  prefer  a  light  mouth; 
and  there's  more  that  would  rather  go  along  without  having 
to  think  at  all,  sure  that,  no  matter  how  rough  the  road, 
there  would  be  neither  a  false  step  nor  stumble  in  it." 

•w  And  what's  become  of  MacNaghten?"  asked  my  father, 
anxious  to  change  the  topic. 

"Scheming,  scheming,  just  the  same  as  ever.  I 'm  sure 
I  wonder  he  's  not  here  to-day.  May  I  never  !  if  that 's  not 
his  voice  I  hear  on  the  stairs.     Talk  of  the  devil  —  " 

"And  you're  sure  to  see  Dan  MacNaghten,"  cried  my 

2 


18  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

father ;  and  the  next  moment  he  was  heartily  shaking  hands 
with  a  tall,  handsome  man  who,  though  barely  thirty,  was  yet 
slightly  bald  on  the  top  of  the  head.  His  eyes  were  blue  and 
large ;  then-  expression  full  of  the  joyous  merriment  of  a 
happy  schoolboy,  —  a  temperament  that  his  voice  and  laugh 
fully  confirmed. 

"Watty,  boy,  it's  as  good  as  a  day  rule  to  have  a  look 
at  you  again,"  cried  he.  "  There  's  not  a  man  can  fill  your 
place  when  you  're  away,  —  devil  a  one." 

"  There  he  goes,  —  there  he  goes  !  "  muttered  old  French, 
with  a  sly  wink  at  the  others. 

"  Ireland  wasn't  herself  without  you,  my  boy,"  continued 
MacNaghten.  "  We  were  obliged  to  put  up  with  Tom 
Burke's  harriers  and  old  French's  claret ;  and  the  one  has  no 
more  scent  than  the  other  has  bouquet." 

French's  face  at  this  moment  elicited  such  a  roar  of 
laughter  as  drowned  the  remainder  of  the  speech. 

' '  'T  was  little  time  you  had  either  to  run  with  the  one 
or  drink  the  other,  Dan,"  said  he ;  "  for  you  were  snug  in 
Kilmainham  the  whole  of  the  winter." 

"  Otium  cam  dignitate,"  said  Dan.  "  I  spent  my  evenings 
in  drawing  up  a  bill  for  the  better  recovery  of  small  debts." 

"  How  so,  Dan?  " 

"Lending  enough  more,  to  bring  the  debtor  into  the 
superior  courts,  —  trying  him  for  murder  instead  of  man- 
slaughter." 

"Faith,  you'd  do  either  if  you  were  put  to  it,"  said 
French,  who  merely  heard  the  words,  without  understanding 
the  context. 

Dan  MacNaghten  was  now  included  in  my  father's  invita- 
tion to  Castle  Carew;  and,  after  a  few  other  allusions  to 
past  events  and  absent  friends,  they  all  took  their  leave, 
and  my  father  hastened  to  join  his  bride. 

"  You  thought  them  very  noisy,  my  dear,"  said  my  father, 
in  reply  to  a  remark  of  hers.  "They,  I  have  no  doubt, 
were  perfectly  astonished  at  their  excessive  quietness,  —  an 
air  of  decorum  only  assumed  because  they  heard  you  were 
in  the  next  room." 

"  They  were  not  afraid  of  me,  I  trust,"  said  she,  smiling. 

"  Not  exactly  afraid,"  said  my  father,  with  a  very 
peculiar  smile. 


CHAPTER   III. 

A    FATHER   AND    DAUGHTER. 

The  celebrated  money-lender  and  bill-discounter  of  Dublin 
in  the  times  we  speak  of,  was  a  certain  Mr.  Fagan,  popularly 
called  "  The  Grinder,"  from  certain  peculiarities  in  his  deal- 
ings with  those  who  stood  in  need  of  his  aid.  He  had  been, 
and  indeed  so  had  his  father  before  him,  a  fruit-seller,  in  a 
quarter  of  the  city  called  Mary's  Abbey,  —  a  trade  which  he 
still  affected  to  carry  on,  although  it  was  well  known  that  the 
little  transactions  of  the  front  shop  bore  no  imaginable  pro- 
portion to  the  important  events  which  were  conducted  in  the 
small  and  gloomy  back-parlor  behind  it. 

It  was  a  period  of  unbounded  extravagance.  Few  even 
of  the  wealthiest  lived  within  their  incomes.  Many  main- 
tained a  style  and  pretension  far  beyond  their  fortunes,  the 
first  seeds  of  that  crop  of  ruin  whose  harvest  we  are  now 
witnessing.  By  large  advances  on  mortgage,  and  great 
loans  at  moments  of  extreme  pressure,  the  Grinder  had 
amassed  an  immense  fortune,  at  the  same  time  that  he  pos- 
sessed a  very  considerable  influence  in  many  counties,  in 
whose  elections  he  took  a  deep  although  secret  interest. 

If  money-getting  and  money-hoarding  was  the  great 
passion  of  his  existence,  it  was  in  reality  so  in  furtherance  of 
two  objects,  on  which  he  seemed  to  have  set  his  whole  heart. 
One  of  these  was  the  emancipation  of  the  Catholics ;  the 
other,  the  elevation  of  his  only  child,  a  daughter,  to  rank 
and  station,  by  means  of  a  high  marriage. 

On  these  two  themes  his  every  thought  was  fixed  ;  and 
however  closely  the  miser's  nature  had  twined  itself  around 
his  own,  all  the  thirst  for  gain,  all  the  greed  of  usury,  gave 
way  before  these  master-passions.  So  much  was  he  under 
their  guidance  that  no  prospect  of  advantage  ever  withdrew 


20  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

him  from  their  prosecution ;  arid  he  who  looked  for  the 
Grinder's  aid,  must  at  least  have  appeared  to  him  as  likely 
to  contribute  towards  one  or  other  of  these  objects. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem  to  our  modern  notions,  the  political 
ambition  seemed  easier  of  success  than  the  social.  With  all 
their  moneyed  embarrassments,  the  higher  classes  of  Ireland 
refused  to  stoop  to  an  alliance  with  the  families  of  the  rich 
plebeians,  and  were  much  more  ready  to  tamper  with  their 
conscience  on  questions  of  state,  than  to  abate  a  particle  of 
their  pride  on  a  matter  of  family  connection.  In  this  way, 
Mr.  Fagan  could  command  many  votes  in  the  House  from 
those  who  would  have  indignantly  refused  his  invitation  to  a 
dinner. 

In  pursuit  of  this  plan,  he  had  given  his  daughter  the 
best  education  that  money  could  command.  She  had  mas- 
ters in  every  modern  language,  and  in  every  fashionable 
accomplishment.  She  was  naturally  clever  and  quick  of 
apprehension,  and  possessed  considerable  advantages  in  per- 
son and  deportment.  Perhaps  an  overweening  sense  of  her 
own  importance,  in  comparison  with  those  about  her,  im- 
parted a  degree  of  assumption  to  her  manner,  or  perhaps 
this  was  instilled  into  her  as  a  suitable  lesson  for  some  future 
position  ;  but  so  was  it,  that  much  of  the  gracefulness  of  her 
youth  was  impaired  by  this  fault,  which  gradually  settled 
down  into  an  almost  stern  and  defiant  hardiness  of  deport- 
ment,—  a  quality  little  likely  to  be  popular  in  high  society. 

A  false  position  invariably  engenders  a  false  manner,  and 
hers  was  eminently  so.  Immeasurably  above  those  with 
whom  she  associated,  she  saw  a  great  gulf  between  her  and 
that  set  with  whose  habits  and  instincts  she  had  been  trained 
to]  assimilate.  To  condescend  to  intimacy  with  her  father's 
guests,  was  to  undo  all  the  teachings  of  her  life ;  and  yet 
how  barren  seemed  every  hope  of  ascending  to  anything 
higher !  No  young  proprietor  had  attained  his  majority  for 
some  years  back,  without  being  canvassed  by  the  Grinder  as 
a  possible  match  for  his  daughter.  He  well  knew  the  pecu- 
niary circumstances  of  them  all.  To  some  he  had  lent 
largely ;  and  yet  somehow,  although  his  emissaries  were 
active  in  spreading  the  intelligence  that  Bob  Fagan's  daugh- 
ter would  have  upwards  of  three  hundred  thousand  pounds, 


A   FATHER   AND   DAUGHTER.  21 

it  seemed  a  point  of  honor  amongst  this  class  that  none 
should  descend  to  such  a  uuion,  nor  stoop  to  an  alliance  with 
the  usurer.  If,  in  the  wild  orgies  of  after-dinner  in  the  mad 
debauchery  of  the  mess-table,  some  reckless  spendthrift 
would  talk  of  marrying  Polly  Fagau,  a  burst  of  mockery  and 
laughter  was  cei'tain  to  hail  the  proposition.  In  fact,  any 
alternative  of  doubtful  honesty,  any  stratagem  to  defeat  a 
creditor,  seemed  a  more  honorable  course  than  such  a 
project. 

There  were  kind  friends  —  mayhap  amongst  them  were 
some  disappointed  suitors  —  ready  to  tell  Polly  how  she  was 
regarded  by  this  set;  and  this  consciousness  on  her  part  did 
not  assuredly  add  to  the  softness  of  a  manner  that  each  day 
was  rendering  her  more  cold  and  severe ;  and,  from  despis- 
ing those  of  her  own  rank,  she  now  grew  to  hate  that  above 
her. 

It  so  chanced  that  my  father  was  one  of  those  on  whom 
Fagau  had  long  speculated  for  a  son-in-law.  There  was 
something  in  the  careless  ease  of  his  character  that  suggested 
the  hope  that  he  might  not  be  very  difficult  of  persuasion ; 
and,  as  his  habits  of  expense  required  large  and  prompt 
supplies,  the  Grinder  made  these  advances  with  a  degree  of 
liberality  that  could  not  fail  to  be  flattering  to  a  young 
heir. 

On  more  than  one  occasion,  the  money  was  paid  down 
before  the  lawyers  had  completed  the  documents ;  and  this 
confidence  in  my  father's  honor  had  greatly  predisposed  him 
in  Fagan's  favor.  The  presumptuous  idea  of  an  alliance 
with  him  would  have,  of  course,  routed  such  impressions, 
but  this  never  occurred  to  my  father.  It  is  very  doubtful 
that  he  could  have  brought  himself  to  believe  the  thing 
possible.  So  secret  had  been  my  father's  marriage  that  none, 
even  of  his  most  intimate  friends,  knew  of  it  till  within  a 
short  time  before  he  arrived  in  Ireland.  The  great  outlay  at 
Castle  Carew  of  course  attracted  its  share  of  gossip,  but  all 
seemed  to  think  that  these  were  the  preparations  for  an  event 
not  yet  decided  on.  This  also  was  Fagan's  reading  of  it; 
and  he  watched  with  anxious  intensity  every  step  and  detail 
of  that  costly  expenditure  in  which  his  now  last  hope  was 
centred. 


22  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

"He  must  come  to  me  for  all  this;  I  alone  can  be  the 
paymaster  here,"  was  his  constant  reflection,  as  he  surveyed 
plans  which  required  a  princely  fortune  to  execute,  and 
which  no  private  income  could  possibly  have  supported  by  a 
suitable  style  of  living.  "A  hundred  thousand  pounds  will 
pay  for  all,"  was  the  consolatory  thought  with  which  he 
solaced  himself  for  this  extravagance. 

The  frequent  calls  for  money,  the  astounding  sums  de- 
manded from  time  to  time,  did  indeed  alarm  Fagan.  The 
golden  limit  of  a  hundred  thousand  had  long  been  passed, 
and  yet  came  no  sign  of  retrenchment ;  on  the  contrary,  the 
plans  for  the  completion  of  the  Castle  were  on  a  scale  of 
even  greater  magnificence. 

It  was  to  assure  himself  as  to  the  truth  of  these  miraculous 
narratives,  to  see  with  his  own  eyes  the  splendors  of  which 
he  had  heard  so  much,  that  Fagan  once  undertook  a  journey 
down  to  Castle  Carew.  For  reasons  the  motives  of  which 
may  be  as  well  guessed  as  described,  he  was  accompanied 
by  his  daughter.  Seeming  to  be  engaged  on  a  little  tour  of 
the  county,  they  arrived  at  the  village  inn  at  nightfall,  and 
the  following  morning  readily  obtained  the  permission  to 
visit  the  grounds  and  the  mansion. 

Perhaps  there  is  no  higher  appreciation  of  landscape 
beauty  than  that  of  him  who  emerges  from  the  dark  and 
narrow  street  of  some  busy  city,  —  from  its  noise,  and  smoke, 
and  din,  —  from  its  vexatious  cares  and  harassing  duties,  and 
strolls  out,  of  a  bright  spring  morning,  through  the  grassy 
fields  and  leafy  lanes  of  a  rural  country ;  there  is  a  repose,  a 
sense  of  tranquil  calm  in  the  scene,  so  refreshing  to  those 
whose  habitual  rest  comes  of  weariness  and  exhaustion. 
No  need  is  there  of  the  painter's  eye  nor  the  poet's  fancy  to 
enjoy  to  the  utmost  that  rich  combination  of  sky,  and  wood, 
and  glassy  lake. 

There  may  be  nothing  of  artistic  excellence  in  the  apprecia- 
tion, but  the  sense  of  pleasure,  of  happiness  even,  is  to  the 
full  as  great. 

It  was  in  such  a  mood  that  Fagan  found  himself  that 
morning  slowly  stealing  along  a  woodland-path,  his  daughter 
at  his  side ;  halting  wherever  a  chance  opening  afforded  a 
view  of  the  landscape,  they  walked  leisurely  on,  each,  as  it 


A  FATHER   AND  DAUGHTER.  23 

were,  respecting  the  other's  silence.  Not  that  their  secret 
thoughts  were  indeed  alike,  —  far  from  it !  The  daughter  had 
marked  the  tranquil  look,  the  unembarrassed  expression  of 
those  features  so  habitually  agitated  and  careworn  :  she  saw 
the  sense  of  relief  even  one  day,  one  single  day  of  rest,  had 
brought  with  it.  Why  should  it  not  be  always  thus?  thought 
she.  He  needs  no  longer  to  toil  and  strive.  His  might  be 
a  life  of  quietude  and  peace.  Our  fortune  is  far  above  our 
wants,  beyond  even  our  wishes.  We  might  at  last  make 
friendships,  real  friendships,  amongst  those  who  would 
look  on  us  as  equals  and  neighbors,  not  as  usurers  and 
oppressors. 

AVhile  such  was  passing  in  the  daughter's  mind,  the 
father's  thoughts  ran  thus :  Can  she  see  these  old  woods, 
these  waving  lawns,  these  battlemented  towers,  topping  the 
great  oaks  of  centuries,  and  yet  not  wish  to  be  their  mistress? 
Does  no  ambition  stir  her  heart  to  think,  These  might  be 
mine?  He  scanned  her  features  closely,  but  in  her  drooping 
eyelids  and  pensive  look  he  could  read  no  signs  of  the  spirit 
he  sought  for. 

"Polly,"  said  he,  at  length,  "this  is  finer,  far  finer  than 
I  expected ;  the  timber  is  better  grown,  the  demesne  itself 
more  spacious.    I  hardly  looked  for  such  a  princely  place." 

"  It  is  very  beautiful,"  said  she,  pensively. 

"  A  proud  thing  to  be  the  owner  of,  Polly,  — a  proud  thing ! 
This  is  not  the  home  of  some  wealthy  citizen  ;  these  trees 
are  like  blazons  of  nobility,  girl." 

"  One  might  be  very  happy  here,  father,"  said  she,  in  the 
same  low  voice. 

"  The  very  thought  of  my  own  mind,  Polly,"  cried  he, 
eagerly.  "The  highest  in  the  land  could  ask  for  nothing 
better.  The  estate  has  been  in  his  family  for  four  or  five 
generations.  The  owner  of  such  a  place  has  but  to  choose 
what  he  would  become.  If  he  be  talented,  and  with  capacity 
for  public  life,  think  of  him  in  Parliament,  taking  up  some 
great  question,  assailing  some  time-worn  abuse,  —  some  rem- 
nant of  that  barbarous  code  that  once  enslaved  us,  —  and 
standing  forward  as  the  leader  of  an  Irish  party.  How  grace- 
fully patriotism  would  sit  on  one  who  could  call  this  his  own ! 
Not  the  sham  patriotism  of  your  envious  plebeian,  nor  the 


24  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

mock  independence  of  the  needy  lawyer,  but  the  sturdy 
determination  to  make  his  country  second  to  none.  There 's 
the  Castle  itself,"  cried  he,  suddenly,  as  they  emerged  into 
an  open  space  in  front  of  the  building ;  and,  amazed  at  the 
spacious  and  splendid  edifice  before  them,  they  both  stood 
several  minutes  in  silent  admiration. 

"  I  scarcely  thought  any  Irish  gentleman  had  a  fortune  to 
suit  this,"  said  she,  at  length. 

"You  are  right,  Polly;  nor  has  Carew  himself.  The 
debts  he  will  have  incurred  to  build  that  Castle  will  hamper 
his  estate,  and  cripple  him  and  those  that  are  to  come  after 
him.  Nothing  short  of  a  large  sum  of  ready  money,  enough 
to  clear  off  every  mortgage  and  incumbrance  at  once,  could 
enable  this  young  fellow  to  save  them.  Even  then,  his  style 
should  not  be  the  spendthrift  waste  they  say  he  is  fond  of. 
A  princely  household  he  might  have,  nobly  maintained,  and 
perfect  in  all  its  details,  but  with  good  management,  girl. 
You  must  remember  that,  Polly." 

She  started  at  this  direct  appeal  to  herself ;  and,  as  her 
cheeks  grew  crimson  with  conscious  shame,  she  turned  away 
to  avoid  his  glance,  —  not  that  the  precaution  was  needed,  for 
he  was  far  too  much  immersed  in  his  own  thoughts  to  observe 
her.  Polly  had  on  more  than  one  occasion  seen  through 
the  ambitious  schemes  of  her  father.  She  had  detected  many 
a  deep-laid  plot  he  had  devised  to  secure  for  her  that  emi- 
nence and  station  he  longed  for.  Deep  and  painful  were  the 
wounds  of  her  offended  pride  at  the  slights,  the  insults  of 
these  defeated  plans.  Resentments  that  were  to  last  her 
lifetime  had  grown  of  them,  and  in  her  heart  a  secret  grudge 
towards  that  class  from  which  they  sprung.  Over  and  over 
had  she  endeavored  to  summon  up  courage  to  tell  him  that, 
to  her,  these  schemes  were  become  hateful ;  that  all  dignity, 
all  self-respect,  were  sacrificed  in  this  unworthy  struggle. 
At  last  came  the  moment  of  hardihood  ;  and  in  a  few  words, 
at  first  broken  and  indistinct,  but  more  assured  and  distinct 
as  she  went  on,  she  said  that  she,  at  least,  could  never 
partake  in  his  ambitious  views. 

"  I  have  seen  you  yourself,  father,  after  a  meeting  with 
one  of  these  —  these  high  and  titled  personages,  come  home 
pale,  careworn,  and  ill.     The  contumely  of  their  manner  had 


A   FATHER  AND   DAUGHTER.  25 

so  offended  you  that  you  sat  down  to  your  meal  without 
appetite.  You  could  not  speak  to  me  ;  or,  in  a  few  words 
you  dropped,  I  could  read  the  bitter  chagrin  that  was  corro- 
ding your  heart.  You  owned  to  me,  that  in  the  very  moment 
of  receiving  favors  from  you,  they  never  forgot  the  wide 
difference  of  rank  that  separated  you,  —  nay  more,  that  they 
accepted  your  services  as  a  rightful  homage  to  their  high 
estate,  and  made  you  feel  a  kind  of  serfdom  in  your  very 
generosity." 

"  Why  all  this?  To  what  end  do  you  tell  me  these  things, 
girl  ? "  cried  he,  angrily,  while  his  cheek  trembled  with 
passion. 

"Because  if  I  conceal  them  longer,  —  if  I  do  not  speak 
them,  — they  will  break  my  heart,"  said  she,  in  an  accent  of 
deepest  emotion  ;  "  because  the  gi'ief  they  give  me  has  worn 
me  to  very  wretchedness.  Is  it  not  clear  to  you,  father,  that 
they  wish  none  of  us,  —  that  our  blood  is  not  their  blood, 
nor  our  traditions  their  traditions?" 

"Hold  —  stop  —  be  silent,  I  say,  or  you  will  drive  me 
distracted,"  said  he,  grasping  her  wrist  in  a  paroxysm  of 
rage. 

"I  will  speak  out,"  said  she,  resolutely.  "The  courage 
I  now  feel  may,  perhaps,  never  return  to  me.  There  is 
nothing  humiliating  in  our  position,  save  what  we  owe  to 
ourselves ;  there  is  no  meanness  in  our  rank  in  life,  save 
when  we  are  ashamed  of  it !  Our  efforts  to  be  what  we  were 
not  born  to  be,  what  we  ought  not  to  be,  what  we  cannot 
be, —  these  may,  indeed,  make  us  despicable  and  ridiculous, 
for  there  are  things  in  this  world,  father,  that  not  even  gold 
can  buy." 

"  By  Heaven,  that  is  not  true  !  "  said  he,  fiercely.  "  There 
never  yet  was  that  in  rank,  honor,  and  distinction  that  was 
not  ticketed  with  its  own  price  !  Our  haughtiest  nobility  — 
the  proudest  duke  in  the  land  — knows  well  what  his  alliance 
with  a  plebeian  order  has  done  for  him.  Look  about  you, 
girl.  Who  are  these  marchionesses,  these  countesses,  who 
sweep  past  us  in  their  pride?  The  daughters  of  men  of  my 
own  station,  —  the  wealthy  traders  of  the  country  —  " 

"  And  what  is  their  position,  father?  A  living  lie.  What 
is  their  haughty  carriage?     The  assumption  of  a  state  they 


26  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

were  not  born  to,  —  the  insolent  pretension  to  despise  all 
amidst  which  they  passed  their  youth,  their  earliest  friend- 
ships, their  purest,  best  days.  Let  them,  on  the  other  hand, 
cling  to  these ;  let  them  love  what  has  grown  into  their 
natures  from  infancy,  —  the  home,  the  companions  of  their 
happy  childhood,  — and  see  how  the  world  will  scoff  at  their 
vulgarity,  their  innate  degeneracy,  their  low-born  habits : 
vulgar  if  generous,  vulgar  when  saving ;  their  costly  tastes 
a  reproach,  their  parsimony  a  sneer." 

There  was  a  passionate  energy  in  her  tone  and  manner, 
which,  heightening  the  expression  of  her  handsome  features, 
made  her  actually  beautiful ;  and  her  father  half  forgot  the 
opposition  to  his  opinions,  in  his  admiration  of  her.  As  he 
still  gazed  at  her,  the  sharp  sound  of  a  horse's  canter  was 
heard  behind  them ;  and,  on  turning  round,  they  saw  ad- 
vancing towards  them  a  young  man,  mounted  on  a  blood 
horse,  which  he  rode  with  all  the  careless  ease  of  one  accus- 
tomed to  the  saddle ;  his  feet  dangling  loosely  out  of  the 
stirrups,  and  one  hand  thurst  into  the  pocket  of  his  shoot- 
ing-jacket. 

"Stand  where  you  are!  "he  cried,  as  the  father  and 
daughter  were  about  to  move  aside,  and  give  him  room  to 
pass ;  and  immediately  after  he  rushed  his  horse  at  the  huge 
trunk  of  a  fallen  beech-tree,  and  cleared  it  with  a  spring. 

"He'll  be  perfect  at  timber,  when  he  gets  a  little  cooler 
in  temper,"  said  he,  turning  on  his  saddle ;  and  then,  recog- 
nizing Fagan,  he  reined  short  in,  and  called  out,  "  Halloo, 
Tony !  who  ever  expected  to  see  you  here  ?  —  Miss  Polly, 
your  servant.  A  most  unexpected  pleasure  this,"  added  he, 
springing  from  his  saddle,  and  advancing  towards  them  with 
his  hat  off. 

"It  is  not  often  I  indulge  myself  with  a  holiday,  Mr. 
MacNaghten,"  said  Fagan,  as  though  half  ashamed  of  the 
confession. 

"  So  much  the  worse  for  you,  Fagan,  and  for  your  hand- 
some daughter  here,  —  not  to  speak  of  the  poor  thriftless 
devils,  like  myself,  who  are  the  objects  of  your  industrious 
hours.  Eh,  Tony,  is  n't  that  true?  "  and  he  laughed  heartily 
at  his  impudent  joke. 


A  FATHER  AND   DAUGHTER.  27 

"  And  if  it  were  not  for  such  industry,  sir,"  said  the 
daughter,  sternly,  "how  many  like  you  would  be  abroad 
to-day?" 

"  By  Jove,  you  are  quite  right,  Miss  Polly.  It  is  exactly 
as  you  say.  Your  excellent  father  is  the  providence  of  us 
younger  sons ;  and  I,  for  one,  will  never  prove  ungrateful  to 
him.  But  pray  let  us  turn  to  another  theme.  Shall  I  show  you 
the  grounds  and  the  gardens  ?  The  house  is  in  such  a  mess 
of  confusion  that  it  is  scarcely  worth  seeing.  The  conser- 
vatory, however,  and  the  dairy  are  nearly  finished ;  and  if 
you  can  breakfast  on  grapes  and  a  pineapple,  with  fresh 
cream  to  wash  them  down,  I  '11  promise  to  entertain  you." 

"  We  ask  for  nothing  better,  Mr.  MacNaghten,"  said 
Fagan,  who  was  not  sorry  to  prolong  an  interview  that 
might  afford  him  the  information  he  sought  for. 

"  Now  for  breakfast,  and  then  for  sight-seeing,"  said  Dan, 
politely  offering  his  arm  to  the  young  lady,  and  leading  the 
way  towards  the  house. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A   BREAKFAST   AND    ITS   CONSEQUENCES. 

To  do  the  honors  of  another  man's  house  is  a  tremendous 
test  of  tact.  In  point  of  skill  or  address,  we  know  of  few 
things  more  difficult.  The  ease  which  sits  so  gracefully  on  a 
host  becomes  assurance  when  practised  by  a  representative ; 
and  there  is  a  species  of  monarchy  about  the  lord  of  a 
household  that  degenerates  into  usurpation  in  the  hands  of 
a  pretender.  It  is  not  improbable,  then,  Dan  MacNaghten's 
success  in  this  trying  part  was  mainly  attributable  to  the 
fact  that  he  had  never  thought  of  its  difficulty.  He  had  gone 
through  a  fine  property  in  a  few  years  of  dissipation,  during 
which  he  had  played  the  entertainer  so  often  and  so  well 
that  nothing  seemed  to  him  more  natural  than  a  seat  at  the 
head  of  a  table,  nor  any  task  more  simple  or  agreeable  than 
to  dispense  its  hospitalities. 

The  servants  of  the  Castle  were  well  accustomed  to  obey 
him,  and  when  he  gave  his  orders  for  breakfast  to  be 
speedily  laid  out  in  the  conservatory,  they  set  about  the 
preparations  with  zeal  and  activity.  With  such  promptitude, 
indeed,  were  the  arrangements  made  that  by  the  time 
MacNaghten  had  conducted  his  guests  to  the  spot,  all  was  in 
readiness  awaiting  them. 

The  place  was  admirably  chosen,  being  a  central  point  in 
the  conservatory,  from  which  alleys  branched  out  in  different 
directions ;  some  opening  upon  little  plots  of  flowers  or 
ornamental  shrubbery,  others  disclosing  views  of  the  wood- 
land scenery  or  the  distant  mountains  beyond  it.  The  table 
was  spread  beside  a  marble  basin,  into  which  a  little  group 
of  sportive  Titans  were  seen  spouting.  Great  Nile  lilies 
floated  on  the  crystal  surface,  and  gold  and  silver  fish  flashed 
and  glittered  below.     The  board  itself,  covered  with  luscious 


A  BREAKFAST  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES.  29 

fruit,  most  temptingly  arranged  amidst  beautiful  flowers, 
displayed,  besides,  some  gorgeous  specimens  of  Sevres  and 
Saxony,  hastily  taken  from  their  packing-cases,  while  a 
large  vase  of  silver,  richly  chased,  stood  in  the  centre,  and 
exhibited  four  views  of  the  Castle,  painted  in  medallions  on 
its  sides. 

"If  you'll  sit  here,  Miss  Polly,"  said  MacNaghten, 
"you'll  have  a  prettier  view,  for  you'll  see  the  lake,  and 
catch  a  peep,  too,  of  the  Swiss  Cottage  on  the  crag  above  it. 
I  must  show  you  the  cottage  after  breakfast.  It  was  a  bit  of 
fancy  of  my  own,  —  copied,  I  am  free  to  confess,  from  one 
I  saw  in  the  Oberland.  —  Fagau,  help  yourself;  you'll  find 
these  cutlets  excellent.  Our  friend  Carew  has  made  an 
admirable  choice  of  a  cook." 

"  You  treat  us  in  princely  fashion,  sir,"  said  Fagan, 
whose  eyes  glanced  from  the  splendor  before  him  to  his 
daughter,  and  there  tried  to  read  her  thoughts. 

"You  gave  me  no  time  for  that;  had  you  told  me  you 
were  coming  down,  I'd  have  tried  to  receive  you  properly. 
As  it  is,  pray  make  up  your  mind  to  stay  a  day  or  two,  — 
Carew  will  be  so  delighted ;  nothing  flatters  him  so  much  as 
to  hear  praise  of  this  place." 

"Ah,  sir,  you  forget  that  men  like  nryself  have  but  few 
holidays." 

"  So  much  the  worse,  Fagan;  remember  what  the  adage 
says  about  all  work  and  no  play.  Not,  by  Jove,  but  I'm 
sure  that  the  converse  of  the  proposition  must  have  its 
penalty,  too ;  for  if  not,  I  should  have  been  a  marvellously 
clever  fellow.  —  Ay,  Miss  Polly,  my  life  has  been  all  play." 

"A  greater  fault  than  the  other,  sir,  and  with  this  addi- 
tion, too.  that  it  makes  proselytes,"  said  she,  gravely;  "my 
father's  theory  finds  fewer  followers." 

"And  you  not  one  of  them?"  sa  id  MacNaghten,  rapidly; 
while  ho  fixed  a  look  of  shrewd  inquiry  on  her. 

"  Assuredly  not,"  replied  she,  in  a  calm  and  collected 
tone. 

"  By  Jove,  I  could  have  sworn  to  it,"  cried  he,  with  a 
barsl  of  enthusiastic  delight.  "There,  Fagan,  3tou  see  Miss 
Polly  lakes  my  side,  after  all." 

"  I  have  not  said  so,"  rejoined  she,  gravely.  "Gain  and 
waste  are  nearer  relatives  than  they  suspect." 


30  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

"I  must  own  that  I  have  never  known  but  one  of  the 
family,"  said  Dan,  with  one  of  those  hearty  laughs  which 
seemed  to  reconcile  him  to  any  turn  of  fortune. 

Fagan  all  this  time  was  ill  at  ease  and  uncomfortable ;  the 
topic  annoyed  him,  and  he  gladly  took  occasion  to  change 
it  by  an  allusion  to  the  wine. 

' '  And  yet  there  are  people  who  will  tell  you  not  to  drink 
champagne  for  breakfast,"  exclaimed  Dan,  draining  his 
glass  as  he  spoke;  "as  if  any  man  could  be  other  than 
better  with  this  glorious  tipple.  Miss  Polly,  your  good 
health,  though  it  seems  superfluous  to  wish  you  anything." 

She  bowed  half  coldly  to  the  compliment,  and  Fagan 
added  hurriedly,  "We  are  at  least  contented  with  our  lot 
in  life,  Mr.  MacNaghten." 

"  Egad,  I  should  think  you  were,  Tony,  and  no  great 
merit  in  the  resignation,  after  all.  Put  yourself  in  my  posi- 
tion, however,  —  fancy  yourself  Dan  MacNaghten  for  one 
brief  twenty-four  hours.  Think  of  a  fellow  who  began  the 
world  —  ay,  and  that  not  so  very  long  ago  either  —  with 
something  over  five  thousand  a-year,  and  a  good  large  sum 
in  bank,  and  who  now,  as  he  sits  here,  only  spends  five 
shillings  when  he  writes  his  name  on  a  stamp ;  who  once 
had  houses  and  hounds  and  horses,  but  who  now  sits  in 
the  rumble,  and  rides  a  borrowed  hack.  If  you  want  to 
make  a  virtue  of  your  contentment,  Fagan,  change  places 
with  me." 

"But  would  you  take  mine,  Mr.  MacNaghten?  Would 
you  toil,  and  slave,  and  fag,  —  would  you  shut  out  the  sun, 
that  your  daily  labor  should  have  no  suggestive  temptings 
to  enjoyment,  —  would  you  satisfy  yourself  that  the  world 
should  be  to  you  one  everlasting  struggle,  till  at  last  the 
very  capacity  to  feel  it  otherwise  was  lost  to  you  forever?  " 

"  That's  more  than  I  am  able  to  picture  to  myself,"  said 
MacNaghten,  sipping  his  wine.  "  I  've  lain  in  a  ditch  for 
two  hours  with  a  broken  thigh-bone,  thinking  all  the  time  of 
the  jolly  things  I  'd  do  when  I  'd  get  well  again ;  I  've  spent 
some  very  rainy  weeks  in  a  debtor's  prison,  weaving  innu- 
merable enjoyments  for  the  days  when  I  should  be  at 
liberty ;  so  that  as  to  any  conception  of  a  period  when  I 
should  not  be  able  to  be  happy,  it 's  clean  and  clear  beyond 


A   BREAKFAST  AND   ITS  CONSEQUENCES.  31 

Polly's  eyes  were  fixed  on  him  as  he  spoke,  and  while 
their  expression  was  almost  severe,  the  heightened  color  of 
her  cheeks  showed  that  she  listened  to  him  with  a  sense  of 
pleasure. 

"I  suppose  it's  in  the  family,"  continued  Dan,  gayly. 
' '  My  poor  father  used  to  say  that  uo  men  have  such  excel- 
lent digestion  as  those  that  have  nothing  to  eat." 

"  And  has  it  never  occurred  to  you,  sir,"  said  Polly,  with 
a  degree  of  earnestness  in  her  voice  and  manner,  —  ' k  has  it 
never  occurred  to  you  that  this  same  buoyant  temperament 
could  be  turned  to  other  and  better  account  than  mere  "  — 
she  stopped,  and  blushed,  and  then,  as  if  by  an  effort,  went 
on  —  "mere  selfish  enjoyment?  Do  you  not  feel  that  he 
who  can  reckon  on  such  resources  but  applies  them  to  base 
uses  when  he  condescends  to  make  them  the  accessories  of 
his  pleasures?  Is  there  nothing  within  your  heart  to  whisper 
that  a  nature  such  as  this  was  given  for  higher  and  nobler 
purposes ;  and  that  he  who  has  the  spirit  to  confront  real 
danger  should  not  sit  down  contented  with  a  mere  indiffer- 
ence to  shame?  " 

"Polly,  Polly!  "  cried  her  father,  alike  overwhelmed  by 
the  boldness  and  the  severity  of  her  speech. 

"By  Jove,  the  young  lady  has  given  me  a  canter,"  cried 
MacNaghten,  who,  in  spite  of  all  his  good  temper,  grew 
crimson ;  ' '  and  I  only  wish  the  lesson  had  come  earlier. 
Yes,  Miss  Polly,"  added  he,  in  a  voice  of  more  feeling, 
"  it 's  too  late  now." 

"  You  must  forgive  my  daughter,  Mr.  MacNaghten,  —  she 
is  not  usually  so  presumptuous,"  said  Fagan,  rising  from 
the  table,  while  he  darted  a  reproving  glance  towards  Polly ; 
"  besides,  we  are  encroaching  most  unfairly  on  your  time." 

"  Are  you  so?  "  cried  Dan,  laughing.  "  I  never  heard  it 
called  mine  before !  Why,  Tony,  it 's  yours,  and  every- 
body's that  has  need  of  it.  But  if  you'll  not  eat  more,  let 
me  show  you  the  grounds.  They  are  too  extensive  for  a 
walk,  Miss  Polly,  so,  with  your  leave,  we'll  have  something 
to  drive;  meanwhile  I'll  tell  the  gardener  to  pluck  you 
some  flowers." 

Fagan  waited  till  MacNaghten  was  out  of  hearing,  and 
then  turned  angrily  towards  his  daughter. 


32  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

"  You  have  given  him  a  sorry  specimen  of  your  breeding, 
Polly ;  I  thought,  indeed,  you  would  have  known  better." 

"You  forget  already,  then,  the  speech  with  which  he 
accosted  us,"  said  she,  haughtily;  "but  my  memory  is 
better,  sir." 

"His  courtesy  might  have  effaced  the  recollection,  I 
think,"  said  Fagan,  testily. 

"  His  courtesy!  Has  he  not  told  you  himself  that  every 
gift  he  possesses  is  but  an  emanation  of  his  selfishness? 
The  man  who  can  be  anything  so  easily,  will  be  nothing  if 
it  cost  a  sacrifice." 

"  I  don't  care  what  he  is,"  said  Fagan,  in  a  low,  distinct 
voice,  as  though  he  wanted  every  word  to  be  heard  atten- 
tively. "  For  what  he  has  been,  and  what  he  will  be,  I  care 
just  as  little.  It  is  where  he  moves,  and  lives,  and  exerts 
influence, — these  are  what  concern  me." 

"Are  the  chance  glimpses  that  we  catch  of  that  high 
world  so  attractive,  father?"  said  she,  in  an  accent  of 
almost  imploring  eagerness.  "Do  the}r,  indeed,  requite  us 
for  the  cost  we  pay  for  them?  When  we  leave  the  vulgar 
circle  of  our  equals,  is  it  to  hear  of  generous  actions,  exalted 
sentiments,  high-souled  motives ;  or  is  it  not  to  find  every 
vice  that  stains  the  low  pampered  up  into  greater  infamy 
amongst  the  noble  ?  " 

"This  is  romance  and  folly,  girl.  Who  ever  dreamed  it 
should  be  otherwise?  Nature  stamped  no  nobility  on  gold, 
nor  made  copper  plebeian.  This  has  been  the  work  of  men ; 
and  so  of  the  distinctions  among  themselves,  and  it  will  not 
do  for  us  to  dispute  the  ordinance.  Station  is  power,  wealth 
is  power ;  he  who  has  neither,  is  but  a  slave ;  he  who  has 
both,  may  be  all  that  he  would  be ! " 

A  sudden  gesture  to  enforce  caution  followed  these  words  ; 
and  at  the  same  time  MacNaghten's  merry  voice  was  heard, 
singing  as  he  came  along,  — 

"  '  Kneel  down  there,  and  say  a  prayer, 
Before  my  hounds  shall  er£  you.' 
'  I  have  no  prayer,'  the  Fox  replied, 
'  For  I  was  bred  a  Quaker.' 

"  All  right,  Miss  Polly.  Out  of  compliment  to  you,  I  sup- 
pose, Kitty  Dwyer,  that  would  never  suffer  a  collar  over  her 


A   BREAKFAST   AND   ITS   CONSEQUENCES.  33 

head  for  the  last  six  weeks,  has  consented  to  be  harnessed 
as  gently  as  a  lamb ;  and  my  own  namesake,  '  Dan  the 
Smasher,'  has  been  traced  up,  without  as  much  as  one  strap 
broken.  They're  a  little  pair  I  have  been  breaking  in  for 
Carew ;  for  he 's  intolerably  lazy,  and  expects  to  find  his 
nags  trained  to  perfection.  Look  at  them,  how  they  come 
along,  —  no  bearing  reins,  no  blinkers.  That 's  what  I  call 
a  very  neat  turn-out." 

The  praise  was,  assuredly,  not  unmerited,  as  two  high- 
bred black  ponies  swept  past  with  a  beautiful  phaeton,  and 
drew  up  at  the  door  of  the  conservatory. 

The  restless  eyes,  the  wide-spread  nostrils  and  quivering 
flanks  of  the  animals,  not  less  than  the  noiseless  caution  of 
the  grooms  at  their  heads,  showed  that  their  education  had 
not  yet  been  completed ;  and  so  Fagan  remarked  at  once. 

"  They  look  rakish,  —  there  's  no  denying  it !  "  said  Mac- 
Naghten ;  "but  they  are  gentleness  itself.  The  only  diffi- 
culty is  to  put  the  traps  on  them ;  once  fairly  on,  there 's 
nothing  to  apprehend.  You  are  not  afraid  of  them,  Miss 
Polly?"  said  he,  with  a  strong  emphasis  on  the  "you." 

"  "When  you  tell  me  that  I  need  not  be,  I  have  no  fears," 
said  she,  calmly. 

"  I  must  be  uncourteous  enough  to  say  that  I  do  not  con- 
cur in  the  sentiment,"  said  Fagan;  "  and,  with  your  leave, 
Mr.  MacNaghten,  we  will  walk." 

"Walk!  why,  to  see  anything,  you'll  have  twelve  miles 
a-foot.  It  must  n't  be  thought  of,  Miss  Polly,  —  I  cannot 
hear  of  it !  "  She  bowed,  as  though  in  half  assent ;  and  he 
continued:  "  Thanks  for  the  confidence;  you  shall  see  it  is 
not  misplaced.     Now,  Fagan  —  " 

"I  am  decided,  Mr.  MacNaghten;  I'll  not  venture ;  nor 
will  I  permit  my  daughter  to  risk  her  life." 

"Neither  would  I,  I  should  hope,"  said  MacNaghten; 
and,  although  the  words  were  uttered  with  something  of 
irritation,  there  was  that  in  the  tone  that  made  Polly  blush 
deeply. 

"It's  too  bad,  by  Jove!"  muttered  he,  half  aloud, 
"when  a  man  has  so  few  things  that  he  really  can  do,  to 
deny  his  skill  in  the  one  he  knows  best." 

"lam  quite  ready,  sir,"  said  Polly,  in  that  tone  of  deter- 


34  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

urination  which  she  was  often  accustomed  to  assume,  and 
against  which  her  father  rarely  or  never  disputed. 

•■  There  now,  Fagan,  get  up  into  the  rumble.  I  'U  not  ask 
you  to  be  the  coachman.  Come,  come,  —  no  more  opposi- 
tion ;  we  shall  make  them  impatient  if  we  keep  them  stand- 
ing much  longer." 

As  he  spoke,  he  offered  his  arm  to  Polly,  who,  with  a 
smile,  —  the  first  she  had  deigned  to  give  him,  —  accepted  it, 
and  then,  hastily  leading  her  forward,  he  handed  her  into  the 
carriage.  In  an  instant  MacNaghten  was  beside  her.  "With 
the  instinct  of  hot-tempered  cattle,  they  no  sooner  felt  a  hand 
upon  the  reins  than  they  became  eager  to  move  forward, 
and,  while  one  pawed  the  ground  with  impatience,  the  other, 
retiring  to  the  very  limit  of  the  pole-strap,  prepared  for  a 
desperate  plunge. 

"  Up  with  you,  Fagan  ;  be  quick  —  be  quick  !  "  cried  Dan. 
"  It  won't  do  to  hold  them  in.  Let  them  go,  lads,  or  they  '11 
smash  everything !  "  and  the  words  were  hardly  out.  when, 
with  a  tremendous  bound,  that  carried  the  front  wheels  off 
the  road,  away  they  went.  "  Meet  us  at  the  other  gate,  — 
they'll  show  you  the  way."  cried  MacNaghten,  as,  standing 
up,  he  pointed  with  his  whip  in  the  direction  he  meant.  He 
had  no  time  for  more ;  for  all  his  attention  was  now  needed 
to  the  horses,  as,  each  exciting  the  other,  they  dashed  madly 
on  down  the  road. 

"This  comes  of  keeping  them  standing,"  muttered  Dan; 
"  and  the  scoundrels  have  curbed  them  up  too  tight. 
You're  not  afraid,  Miss  Polly?  By  Jove,  that  was  a  dash, 
—  Kitty  showed  her  heels  over  the  splash-board.  Look  at 
that  devil  Dan,  —  see  how  he  's  bearing  on  the  pole-piece  !  — 
an  old  trick  of  his." 

A  tremendous  cut  on  his  flank  now  drove  him  almost  fu- 
rious, and  the  enraged  animal  set  off  at  speed. 

"We  must  let  them  blow  themselves,  Miss  Polly.  It  all 
comes  of  their  standing  so  long.  You're  not  afraid?  — 
Well,  then,  they  may  do  their  worst." 

By  this  time  the  pace  had  become  a  tearing  gallop,  and 
seeing  that  nothing  short  of  some  miles  would  suffice  to  tame 
them  down,  MacXaghten  turned  their  heads  in  the  direction 
of  a  long  avenue  which  led  towards  the  sea. 


A   BREAKFAST   AND   ITS   CONSEQUENCES.  35 

It  was  all  in  vain  that  Fagan  hastened  through  the  flower- 
garden,  and  across  a  private  shrubbery  ;  when  he  reached  the 
"gate,"  there  was  no  sign  of  the  phaeton.  The  cuckoo  and 
the  thrush  were  the  only  voices  heard  in  the  stillness  ;  and, 
at  intervals,  the  deep  booming  of  the  sea,  miles  distant,  told 
how  unbroken  was  the  silence  around.  His  mind  was  a  con- 
flict of  fear  aud  anger ;  terrible  anxieties  for  his  daughter 
were  mixed  up  with  passion  at  this  evidence  of  her  wayward 
nature,  and  he  walked  along,  reproaching  himself  bitterly 
for  having  accepted  the  civilities  of  MacNaghten. 

Pagan's  own  schemes  for  a  high  alliance  for  his  daughter 
had  made  him  acquainted  with  many  a  counterplot  of  adven- 
turers against  himself.  He  well  knew  what  a  prize  Polly 
Fagan  was  deemed  amongst  the  class  of  broken-down  and 
needy  spendthrifts  who  came  to  him  for  aid.  Often  and 
often  had  he  detected  the  first  steps  of  such  machinations, 
till  at  length  he  had  become  suspectful  of  everything  and 
evei^body.  Now.  MacNaghten  was  exactly  the  kind  of  man 
he  most  dreaded  in  this  respect.  There  was  that  reckless- 
ness  about  him  that  comes  of  broken  fortune  ;  he  was  the 
very  type  of  a  desperate  adventurer,  ready  to  seize  any 
chance  to  restore  himself  to  fortune  and  independence.  "Who 
could  answer  for  such  a  man  in  such  an  emergency? 

Driven  almost  mad  with  these  terrors,  he  now  hastened  his 
steps,  stopping  at  times  to  listen,  and  at  times  calling  on  his 
daughter  in  the  wildest  accents.  Without  knowing  whither  he 
went,  he  soon  lost  himself  in  the  mazes  of  the  wood,  and 
wandered  on  for  hours  in  a  state  bordering  upon  distraction. 
Suspicion  had  so  mastered  his  reason  that  he  had  convinced 
himself  the  whole  was  a  deliberate  scheme,  —  that  Mac- 
Naghten had  planned  all  beforehand.  In  his  disordered 
fancies,  he  did  not  scruple  to  accuse  his  daughter  of  compli- 
city, and  inveighed  against  her  falsehood  and  treachery  in 
the  bitterest  word-. 

And  what  was  Dan  MacNaghten  doing  all  this  time? 
Anything,  everything,  in  short,  but  what  he  was  accused 
of!  In  good  truth,  he  had  little  time  for  love-making, 
had  such  a  project  even  entered  his  head,  so  divided  were 
his  attentions  between  the  care  of  the  cattle  and  his  task 
of  describing  the  different  scenes  through  which  they  passed 
at  speed,  —  the  prospect  being  like  one  of   those  modern 


36  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

inventions  called  dissolving  views,  —  no  sooner  presenting 
an  object  than  superseding  it  by  another.  In  addition  to  all 
this,  he  had  to  reconcile  Miss  Polly  to  what  seemed  a  deser- 
tion of  her  father ;  so  that,  what  with  his  ' '  cares  of  coach- 
man, cicerone,  and  consoler,"  as  he  himself  afterwards  said, 
it  was  clean  beyond  him  to  slip  in  even  a  word  on  his  own 
part.  It  is  no  part  of  my  task  to  inquire  how  Polly  enjoyed 
the  excursion,  or  whether  the  dash  of  recklessness,  so  unlike 
every  incident  of  her  daily  life,  did  not  repay  her  for  any 
discomfort  of  her  father's  absence :  certain  is  it  that  when, 
after  about  six  miles  traversed  in  less  than  half  an  hour,  they 
returned  to  the  Castle,  her  first  sense  of  apprehension  was 
felt  by  not  finding  her  father  to  meet  her.  No  sooner  had 
MacNaghten  conducted  her  to  the  library  than  he  set  out 
himself  in  search  of  Fagan,  having  despatched  messengers 
in  all  directions  on  the  same  errand.  Dan,  it  must  be  owned, 
had  far  rather  have  remained  to  reassure  Miss  Polly,  and 
convince  her  that  her  father's  absence  would  be  but  momen- 
tary ;  but  he  felt  that  it  was  a  point  of  duty  with  him  to  go 
—  and  go  he  did. 

It  chanced  that,  by  dint  of  turning  and  winding,  Fagan 
had  at  length  approached  the  Castle  again,  so  that  Mac- 
Naghten came  up  with  him  within  a  few  minutes  after  his 
search  began.  "  Safe,  and  where? "  were  the  only  words  the 
old  man  could  utter  as  he  grasped  the  other's  arm.  Dan, 
who  attributed  the  agitation  to  but  one  cause,  proceeded  at 
once  to  reassure  him  on  the  score  of  his  daughter's  safety, 
detailing,  at  the  same  time,  the  circumstances  which  com- 
pelled him  to  turn  off  in  a  direction  the  opposite  of  that  he 
intended.  Fagan  drank  in  every  word  with  eagerness,  his 
gray  eyes  piercingly  fixed  on  the  speaker  all  the  while. 
Great  as  was  his  agitation  throughout,  it  became  excessive 
when  MacNaghten  chanced  to  allude  to  Polly  personally, 
and  to  speak  of  the  courage  she  displayed. 

"  She  told  you  that  she  was  not  afraid?  —  she  said  so  to 
yourself?  "  cried  he,  eagerly. 

"Ay,  a  dozen  times,"  replied  Dan,  freely.  "It  was 
impossible  to  have  behaved  better." 

"  You  said  so,  — you  praised  her  for  it,  I  have  no  doubt," 
said  the  other,  with  a  grim  effort  at  a  smile. 

"  To  be  sure  I  did,  Tony.     By  Jove,  you've  reason  to  be 


A  BREAKFAST  AND  ITS  CONSEQUENCES.  37 

proud  of  her.  I  don't  speak  of  her  beauty,  —  that  every  one 
cau  see ;  but  she  's  a  noble-nrinded  girl.  She  would  grace 
any  station  in  the  land." 

"  She  heard  you  say  as  much  with  pleasure,  I  'm  certain," 
said  Fagan,  with  a  smile  that  was  more  than  half  a  sneer. 

"  Nay,  faith,  Tony,  I  did  not  go  so  far.  I  praised  her 
courage.  I  told  her  that  not  every  man  could  have  behaved 
so  bravely." 

MacNaghten  paused  at  this. 

"And  then — and  then,  sir,"  cried  Fagan,  impatiently. 

Dan  turned  suddenly  towards  him,  and,  to  his  amazement, 
beheld  a  countenance  tremulous  with  passionate  excitement. 

"  AVrhat  then,  sir?  Tell  me  what  then?  I  have  a  right 
to  ask,  and  I  will  know  it.  I  'm  her  father,  and  I  demand 
it." 

"  Why,  what  in  Heaven's  name  is  the  matter?  "  exclaimed 
MacNaghten.  "I  have  told  you  she  is  safe,  —  that  she  is 
yonder." 

"  I  speak  not  of  that,  sir;  and  you  know  it,"  cried  Fagan, 
imperiously.  "  The  dissimulation  is  unworthy  of  you.  You 
ought  to  be  a  man  of  honor." 

"  Egad,  good  temper  would  be  the  best  quality  for  me  just 
now,"  said  the  other,  with  a  smile  ;  "  for  you  seem  bent  on 
testing  it." 

"I  see  it  all,"  cried  Fagan,  in  a  voice  of  anguish.  "I 
see  it  all.  Now  hear  me,  Mr.  MacNaghten.  You  are  one 
who  has  seen  much  of  the  world,  and  will  readily  comprehend 
me.  You  are  a  man  reputed  to  be  kind-hearted,  and  you 
will  not  pain  me  by  affecting  a  misunderstanding.  Will  you 
leave  this  to-morrow,  and  go  abroad,  say  for  a  year  or  two? 
Give  me  your  hand  on  it,  and  draw  on  me  for  one  thousand 
pounds." 

"  Why,  Tony,  what  has  come  over  you?  Is  it  the  air  of 
the  place  has  disordered  your  excellent  faculties  ?  What  can 
you  mean?  " 

"This  is  no  answer  to  my  question,  sir,"  said  Fagan, 
rudely. 

"I  cannot  believe  you  serious  in  putting  it,"  said  Mac- 
Naghten, half  proudly.  "  Neither  you  nor  any  other  man 
has  the  right  to  make  such  a  proposal  to  me." 


38  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

"I  say  that  I  have,  sir.  I  repeat  it.  I  am  her  father, 
and  by  one  dash  of  my  pen  she  is  penniless  to-morrow.  Ay, 
by  Heaven,  it  is  what  I  will  do  if  you  drive  me  to  it." 

"  At  last  I  catch  your  meaning,"  said  MacNaghten,  "  and 
I  see  where  your  suspicions  have  been  pointing  at.  No,  no ; 
keep  your  money.  It  might  be  a  capital  bargain  for  me, 
Tony,  if  I  had  the  conscience  to  close  with  it ;  and  if  you 
knew  but  all,  you  've  no  right  to  offer  so  much  temptation. 
That  path  will  bring  you  to  the  Castle.  You  '11  find  Miss 
Polly  in  the  library.     Good-bye,  Fagan." 

And  without  waiting  for  a  reply,  MacNaghten  turned 
abruptly  away,  and  disappeared  in  the  wood. 

Fagan  stood  for  a  second  or  two  deep  in  thought,  and  then 
bent  his  steps  towards  the  Castle. 


CHAPTER  V. 

JOE    RAPER. 

The  little  incident  which  forms  the  subject  of  the  last 
chapter  occurred  some  weeks  before  my  father's  return  to 
Ireland,  and  while  as  yet  the  fact  of  his  marriage  was  still 
a  secret  to  all,  save  his  most  intimate  friends.  The  morning 
after  Fagan's  visit,  however,  MacNaghten  received  a  few 
lines  from  my  father,  desiring  him  to  look  after  and  "pass" 
through  the  Custom  House  certain  packages  of  value  which 
would  arrive  there  about  that  time.  It  chanced  that  poor 
Dan's  circumstances  just  at  this  moment  made  seclusion  the 
safer  policy,  and  so  he  forwarded  the  commission  to  Fagan. 

The  packages  contained  the  wardrobe  of  Madame  de 
Carew,  and  revealed  the  mystery  of  my  father's  marriage. 
Fagan's  plans  and  speculations  must  have  attained  to  a  great 
maturity  in  his  own  mind,  to  account  for  the  sudden  shock 
which  this  intelligence  gave  him.  He  was  habitually  a 
cautious  calculator,  rarely  or  never  carried  away  by  hope 
beyond  the  bounds  of  stern  reality,  and  only  accepting  the 
"probable"  as  the  "possible."  In  this  instance,  however, 
he  must  have  suffered  himself  a  wider  latitude  of  expectation, 
for  the  news  almost  stunned  him.  Vague  as  were  the 
chances  of  obtaining  my  father  for  a  son-in-law,  they  were 
yet  fair  subjects  of  speculation ;  and  he  felt  like  one  who 
secures  a  great  number  of  tickets  in  a  lottery,  to  augment 
his  likelihood  to  win.  Despite  of  all  this,  he  had  now  to 
bear  the  disappointment  of  a  "blank."  The  great  alliance 
on  which  he  had  built  all  his  hopes  of  position  and  station 
was  lost  to  him  forever;  and,  unable  to  bear  up  against 
the  unexpected  stroke  of  fortune,  he  feigned  illness  and 
withdrew. 

It  is  very  difficult  for  some  men  to  sever  the  pain  of  a  dis- 
appointment from  a  sense  of  injuiry  towards  the  innocenl 


40  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

cause  of  it.  Unwilling  to  confess  that  they  have  calculated 
ill,  they  turn  their  anger  into  some  channel  apart  from  them- 
selves. In  the  present  case  Fagan  felt  as  if  my  father  had 
done  him  a  foul  wrong,  as  though  he  had  been  a  party  to 
the  deceit  he  practised  on  himself,  and  had  actually  traded 
on  the  hopes  which  stirred  his  own  heart.  He  hastened 
home,  and,  passing  through  the  little  shop,  entered  the 
dingy  parlor  behind  it. 

At  a  large,  high  desk,  at  each  side  of  which  stood  innu- 
merable pigeon-holes,  crammed  with  papers,  a  very  diminu- 
tive man  was  seated  writing.  His  suit  of  snuff-brown  was 
worn  and  threadbare,  but  scrupulously  clean,  as  was  also  the 
large  cravat  of  spotless  white  which  enclosed  his  neck  like  a 
pillory.  His  age  might  have  been  about  fifty-one  or  two ; 
some  might  have  guessed  him  more,  for  his  features  were 
cramped  and  contracted  with  wrinkles,  which,  with  the  loss 
of  one  of  his  eyes  from  small-pox,  made  him  appear  much 
older  than  he  was.  His  father  had  been  one  of  the  first 
merchants  of  Dublin,  in  whose  ruin  and  bankruptcy,  it  was 
said,  Fagan's  father  had  a  considerable  share.  The  story 
also  ran  that  Joe  Raper  —  such  was  his  name  —  had  been 
the  accepted  suitor  of  her  who  subsequently  married  Fagan. 
The  marriage  having  been  broken  off  when  these  disasters 
became  public,  young  Raper  was  forced  by  poverty  to  relin- 
quish his  career  as  a  student  of  Trinity  College,  and  become 
a  clerk  in  Fagan's  office  and  an  inmate  of  his  house.  In 
this  station  he  had  passed  youth  and  manhood,  and  was  now 
growing  old ;  his  whole  ambition  in  life  being  to  see  the 
daughter  of  his  former  sweetheart  grow  up  in  beauty  and 
accomplishments,  and  to  speculate  with  himself  on  some 
great  destiny  in  store  for  her.  Polly's  mother  had  died 
within  two  years  after  her  marriage,  and  to  her  child  had 
Joe  transmitted  all  the  love  and  affection  he  had  borne  to 
herself.  He  had  taken  charge  of  her  education  from  in- 
fancy, and  had  labored  hard  himself  to  acquire  such  knowl- 
edge as  might  keep  him  in  advance  of  his  gifted  pupil.  But 
for  this  self-imposed  task  it  is  more  than  likely  that  all  his 
little  classic  lore  had  been  long  forgotten,  and  that  the  grace- 
ful studies  of  his  earlier  days  had  been  obliterated  by  the  wear 
and  tear  of  a  life  so  little  in  unison  with  them.     To  be  her 


JOE  RAPER.  41 

teacher,  he  had  toiled  through  the  long  hours  of  the  night, 
hoarding  up  his  miserable  earnings  to  buy  some  coveted 
book  of  reference,  some  deeply  prized  authority  in  criti- 
cism. By  dint  of  downright  labor,  —  for  his  was  not  one  of 
those  bright  intelligences  that  acquire  as  if  by  instinct,  —  he 
had  mastered  several  of  the  modern  languages  of  Europe, 
and  refreshed  his  knowledge  of  the  ancient  ones.  With 
such  companionship  and  such  training,  Polly  Fagan's  youth 
had  been  fashioned  into  that  strange  compound,  where  high 
ambitions  and  gentle  tastes  warred  with  each  other,  and 
the  imaginative  faculties  were  cultivated  amidst  views  of  life 
alone  suggestive  of  gain  and  money-getting. 

If  Fagau  took  little  interest  in  the  care  bestowed  by  Raper 
on  his  daughter's  education,  he  was  far  from  indifferent  to 
the  devotion  of  his  faithful  follower ;  while  Joe,  on  the  other 
hand,  well  knowing  that  without  him  the  complicated  busi- 
ness of  the  house  could  not  be  carried  on  for  a  single  day, 
far  from  presuming  on  his  indispensable  services,  only  felt 
the  more  bound  in  honor  to  endure  any  indignity  rather  than 
break  with  one  so  dependent  on  him.  It  had  been  a  kind  of 
traditionary  practice  with  the  Fagans  not  to  keep  regular 
books,  but  to  commit  all  their  transactions  to  little  frag- 
ments of  paper,  which  were  stuffed,  as  it  seemed,  recklessly 
into  some  one  or  other  of  that  vast  nest  of  pigeon-holes, 
which,  like  a  gigantic  honeycomb,  formed  the  background 
of  Joe  Raper's  desk,  and  of  which  he  alone,  of  men,  knew 
the  secret  geography.  No  guide  existed  to  these  mysterious 
receptacles,  save  when  occasionally  the  name  of  some  suitor 
of  uncommon  importance  appeared  over  a  compartment; 
and  as  an  evidence  of  what  a  share  our  family  enjoyed 
in  such  distinction,  I  have  heard  that  the  word  "Carew" 
figured  over  as  many  as  five  of  these  little  cells. 

Joe  turned  round  hastily  on  his  stool  as  his  chief  entered, 
and  saluted  him  with  a  respectful  bow;  and  then,  as  if  con- 
tinuing some  unbroken  thread  of  discourse,  said,  "  Whyte 
is  protested,  —  Figgis  and  Read  stopped." 

"  What  of  Grogan?  "  said  Fagan,  harshly. 

"  Asks  for  time.  If  he  sells  his  stock  at  present  prices, 
he  '11  be  a  heavy  loser." 

"  So  let  him,  — say  that  we'll  proceed." 


42  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

"  The  writ  can't  run  there  ;  he  lives  in  Mayo." 

"We'll  try  it." 

"  We  did  so  before,  and  the  sub-sheriff  was  shot." 

"  Attorneys  are  plenty,  —  we  '11  send  down  another." 

"Hump!"  muttered  Joe,  as  he  turned  over  a  folio  of 
papers  before  him.  "  Ay,  here  it  is,"  said  he.  "  Oliver 
Moore  wishes  to  go  to  America,  and  will  give  up  his  lease ; 
he  ouly  begs  that  you  will  vouchsafe  to  him  some  small 
compensation  —  " 

"  Compensation  !  That  word  is  one  of  yours,  Mr.  Raper, 
and  I've  no  doubt  has  a  classical  origin, — you  got  it  in 
Homer,  perhaps ;  but,  let  me  tell  you,  sir,  that  it  is  a  piece 
of  vulgar  cant,  and,  what  is  worse,  a  swindle !  Ay,  grow 
pale  if  you  like;  but  I '11  repeat  the  word,  —  a  swindle! 
When  a  man  wants  to  sell  a  pair  of  old  boots,  does  he  think 
of  charging  for  all  the  blacking  he  has  put  on  them  for  the 
three  years  before?  And  yet  that  is  precisely  what  you 
dignify  with  the  name  of  compensation.  Tell  him  if  he 
built  a  house,  that  he  lived  in  it ;  if  he  fenced  the  land,  that 
the  neighbors'  cattle  made  fewer  trespasses ;  if  he  drained, 
the  soil  was  the  drier.  Your  cry  of  compensation  won't  do, 
Raper.  I  might  as  well  ask  an  insurance  office  to  pay  me 
for  taking  care  of  my  health,  and  give  me  a  bonus  whenever 
I  took  castor  oil !  " 

"  The  cases  are  not  alike,  sir.  If  his  improvements  be  of 
a  permanent  character  —  " 

"  Is  this  an  office,  Mister  Raper,  or  is  it  a  debating  so- 
ciety?" broke  in  Fagan.  "My  answer  to  Moore  is,  pay, 
and  go — to  the  devil,  if  he  likes." 

"  Sir  Harry  Wheeler,"  continued  Joe,  "  writes  from  Chel- 
tenham that  he  thinks  there  must  be  a  mistake  about  the 
bill  for  three  hundred  and  forty  odd,  —  that  it  was  included 
in  the  bond  he  gave  in  September  last." 

"  File  a  bill,  send  for  Crowther,  and  let  him  proceed 
against  him." 

"But  I  think  he's  right,  sir;  the  memorandum  is  some- 
where here.  I  put  it  amongst  the  W's ;  for  we  have  no  box 
for  Sir  Harry." 

"It's  a  nice  way  to  keep  accounts,  Mister  Raper;  I  must 
say  it's  very  creditable  to  you,"  said  Fagan,  who,  when  any 


JOE  RAPER.  43 

inaccuracy  occurred,  always  reproached  Joe  with  the  system 
that  he  rigidly  compelled  him  to  follow.  "Perhaps  it's 
classical,  however ;  maybe  it 's  the  way  the  ancients  did  it ! 
But  I  '11  tell  you  what,  sir,  you  'd  cut  an  ugly  figure  before 
the  courts  if  you  came  to  be  examined ;  your  Latin  and 
Greek  would  n't  screen  you  there." 

"  Here  it  is,  —  here  's  the  note,"  said  Joe,  who  had  all  the 
while  been  prosecuting  his  search.  "  It 's  in  your  own  hand, 
and  mentions  that  this  sum  forms  a  portion  of  the  debt  now 
satisfied  by  his  bond." 

"  Cancel  the  bill,  and  tell  him  so.  What 's  that  letter 
yonder? " 

"  It  is  marked  '  strictly  private  and  confidential,'  sir;  but 
comes  from  Walter  Carew,  Esq." 

' '  Then  why  not  give  it  to  me  at  once  ?  Why  keep  potter- 
ing about  every  trifle  of  no  moment,  sir?"  said  Fagan,  as 
he  broke  the  seal,  and  drew  near  to  the  window  to  read.  It 
was  very  brief,  and  ran  thus :  — 

Dear  Fagan,  —  Shylock  could  n't  hold  a  candle  to  you ;  such 
an  infernal  mess  of  interest,  compound  interest,  costs,  and  com- 
mission as  you  have  sent  me  I  never  beheld !  However,  for  the 
present  I  must  endure  all  your  exactions,  even  to  the  tune  of  fifty 
per  cent.  Let  me  have  cash  for  the  enclosed  three  bills,  for  one 
thousand  each,  drawn  at  the  old  dates,  and,  of  course,  to  be  '  done ' 
at  the  old  discount. 

I  have  just  taken  a  wife,  and  am  in  want  of  ready  money  to  buy 
some  of  the  customary  tomfooleries  of  the  occasion.  Regards  to 
Polly  and  her  fat  terrier.     Yours,  in  haste, 

Walter  Carew. 

"  Read  that,"  said  Fagan,  handing  the  letter  to  his  clerk, 
while  the  veins  in  his  forehead  swelled  out  with  passion,  and 
his  utterance  grew  hoarse  and  thick. 

Raper  carefully  perused  the  note,  and  then  proceeded  to 
examine  the  bills,  when  Fagan  snatched  them  rudely  from  his 
hand. 

"  It  was  his  letter  I  bade  you  read,  — the  gross  insolence 
of  his  manner  of  addressing  me.  Where's  his  account, 
Raper?     How  does  he  stand  with  us?" 

"That's  a  long  affair  to  make  out,"  said  Joe,  untying  a 
thick  roll  of  papers. 


44  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

"I  don't  want  details.  Can  you  never  understand  that? 
Tell  me  in  three  words  how  he  stands." 

"  Deeply  indebted,  — very  deeply  indebted,  sir,"  said  Joe, 
poring  over  the  papers. 

"Tell  Crowther  to  come  over  this  evening  at  six  o'clock, 
and  write  to  Carew  by  this  post,  thus :  — 

"'Mr.  Fagan  regrets  that  in  the  precarious  condition  of  the 
money  market  he  is  obliged  to  return  you  the  bills,  herewith 
enclosed,  without  acceptance.  Mr.  F.,  having  some  large  and  press- 
ing claims  to  meet,  desires  to  call  your  attention  to  the  accom- 
panying memorandum,  and  to  ask  at  what  early  period  it  will  be 
your  convenience  to  make  an  arrangement  for  its  settlement.' 

"Make  out  an  account  and  furnish  it,  Raper ;  we'll  see 
how  he  relishes  Shylock  when  he  comes  to  read  that." 

Joseph  sat  with  the  pen  in  his  hand,  as  if  deep  in  thought. 

"Do  you  hear  me,  Raper?"  asked  Fagan,  in  a  harsh 
voice. 

"  I  do,"  said  the  other,  and  proceeded  to  write. 

"  There's  a  judgment  entered  upon  Carew's  bond  of  Feb- 
ruary, isn't  there?" 

"  There  is  !     Crowther  has  it  in  his  office." 

"  That 's  right.  We  '11  see  and  give  him  a  pleasant  honey- 
moon." And  with  these  words,  uttered  with  an  almost 
savage  malevolence,  he  passed  out  into  the  street. 

Joe  Raper's  daily  life  was  a  path  on  which  the  sunlight 
seldom  fell ;  but  this  day  it  seemed  even  darker  than  usual, 
and  as  he  sat  and  wrote,  many  a  heavy  sigh  broke  from  him, 
and  more  than  once  did  he  lay  down  his  pen  and  draw  his 
hand  across  his  eyes.  Still  he  labored  on,  his  head  bent 
down  over  his  desk,  in  that  selfsame  spot  where  he  had 
spent  his  youth,  and  was  now  dropping  down  into  age  un- 
noticed and  unthought  of.  Of  those  who  came  and  went 
from  that  dreary  room,  who  saw  and  spoke  with  him,  how 
many  were  there  who  knew  him,  who  even  suspected  what 
lay  beneath  that  simple  exterior !  To  some  he  was  but  the 
messenger  of  dark  tidings,  the  agent  of  those  severe  measures 
which  Fagan  not  unfrequently  employed  against  his  clients. 
To  others  he  seemed  a  cold,  impassive,  almost  misanthropic 
being,  without  a  tie  to  bind  him  to  his  fellow-man ;  while  not 
a  few  even  ascribed  to  his  influences  all  the  harshness  of  the 


JOE   RAPER.  45 

"  Grinder."  It  is  more  than  likely  that  he  never  knew  of, 
never  suspected,  the  different  judgments  thus  passed  on  him. 
So  humbly  did  he  think  of  himself,  so  little  disposed  was  he 
to  fancy  that  he  could  be  an  object  of  attention  to  any,  the 
chances  are  that  he  was  spared  this  source  of  mortification. 
Humility  was  the  basis  of  his  whole  character,  and  by  its 
working  was  every  action  of  his  simple  life  influenced.  It 
might  be  a  curious  subject  of  inquiry  how  far  this  char- 
acteristic was  fashioned  by  his  habits  of  reading  and  of 
thought.  Holding  scarcely  any  intercourse  with  the  world  of 
society,  companionless  as  he  was,  his  associates  were  the 
great  writers  of  ancient  or  modern  times,  —  the  mighty 
spirits  whose  vast  conceptions  have  created  a  world  of  their 
own.  Living  amongst  them,  animated  by  their  glorious  sen- 
timents, feeling  their  thoughts,  breathing  then-  words,  how 
natural  that  he  should  have  fallen  back  upon  himself  with 
a  profound  sense  of  his  inferiority  !  How  meanly  must  he 
have  thought  of  his  whole  career  in  life,  in  presence  of  such 
standards  ! 

Upon  this  day  Joe  never  once  opened  a  book ;  the  little 
volumes  which  lay  scattered  through  his  drawers  were  un- 
touched, nor  did  he,  as  was  his  wont,  turn  for  an  instant 
to  refresh  himself  in  the  loved  pages  of  Metastasio  or  of 
Uhland.  Whenever  he  had  more  than  usual  on  hand,  it 
was  his  custom  not  to  dine  with  the  family,  but  to  eat  some- 
thing as  he  sat  at  his  desk.  Such  was  his  meal  now :  a 
little  bread  and  cheese,  washed  down  by  a  glass  of  water. 

"  Miss  Polly  hopes  you'll  take  a  glass  of  wine,  Mr.  Joe," 
said  a  maid-servant,  as  she  appeared  with  a  decanter  in  her 
hand. 

"No!  Thanks  —  thanks  to  Miss  Polly  ;  many  thanks  — 
and  to  you  Margaret;  not  to-day.  I  have  a  good  deal  to 
do."  And  he  resumed  his  work  with  that  air  of  determina- 
tion the  girl  well  knew  brooked  no  interruption. 

It  was  full  an  hour  after  sunset  when  he  ceased  writing ; 
and  then,  laying  his  head  down  between  his  hands,  he  slept, 
—  the  sound,  heavy  sleep  that  comes  of  weariness.  Twice 
or  thrice  had  the  servant  to  call  him  before  he  could  awake, 
and  hear  that  "  Miss  Polly  was  waiting  tea  for  him." 

**  Waiting  for  me  !  "  cried  he,  in  mingled  shame  and  aston- 


•46  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

ishment.     "  How  forgetful  I  am;  how  very  wrono-  of  rue! 
Is  Mr.  Crowther  here,  Margaret?  " 

"  He  came  an  hour  ago,  sir." 

"  Dear  me,  how  I  have  forgotten  myself !  "  And  he  began 
gathering  up  his  papers,  the  hard  task  of  the  day,  in°all 
haste.  "Say  I'm  comiug,  Margaret;  tell  Miss  Polly  I'm 
so  sorry."  And  thus  with  many  an  excuse,  aud  in  great 
confusion,  Raper  hurried  out  of  the  office,  and  upstairs  into 
the  drawing-room. 

Fagan's  house  was,  perhaps,  the  oldest  in  the  street,  and 
was  remarkable  for  possessing  one  of  those  quaint,  old-fash- 
ioned windows,  which,  projecting  over  the  door  beneath, 
formed  a  species  of  little  boudoir,  with  views  extending  on 
either  side.  Here  it  was  Polly's  pleasure  to  sit,  and  here  she 
now  presided  at  her  tea-table;  while  in  a  remote  corner 
of  the  room  her  father  and  Mr.  Crowther  were  deep  in 
conversation. 

' '  Have  you  finished  the  statement  ?  Where 's  the  account  ? " 
cried  Fagan,  roughly  interrupting  the  excuses  that  Raper 
was  making  for  his  absence. 

"Here  it  is,  —  at  least,  so  far  as  I  was  able  to  make  it. 
Many  of  our  memoranda,  however,  only  refer  to  verbal 
arrangements,  and  allude  to  business  matters  transacted 
personally  between  you  and  Mr.  Carew." 

"  Listen  to  him,  Crowther;  just  hear  what  he  says,"  said 
Fagan,  angrily.  "  Is  not  that  a  satisfactory  way  to  keep 
accounts  ?  " 

"Gently,  gently;  let  us  go  quietly  to  work,"  said  Crow- 
ther, a  large,  fat,  unwieldy  man,  with  a  bloated,  red  face, 
and  an  utterance  rendered  difficult  from  the  combined  effects 
of  asthma  and  over-eating.  "  Raper  is  generally  most  cor- 
rect, and  your  own  memory  is  admirable.  If  Miss  Polly 
will  give  me  a  cup  of  her  strongest  tea,  without  any  sugar, 
I  '11  answer  for  it  I  '11  soon  see  my  way." 

When  Raper  had  deposited  the  mass  of  papers  on  the 
table,  and  presented  the  cup  of  tea  to  Crowther,  he  stole, 
half  timidly,  over  to  where  Polly  sat. 

"  You  must  be  hungry,  Papa  Joe,"  — it  was  the  name  by 
which  she  called  him  in  infancy,  —  "  for  you  never  appeared 
at  dinner.     Pray  eat  something  now." 


JOE   RAPER.  47 

"  I  have  no  appetite,  Polly,  —  that  is,  I  have  eaten  already. 
I  'in  quite  refreshed,"  said  he,  scarcely  thinking  of  what  he 
said,  for  his  eyes  were  directed  to  the  table  where  Crowther 
was  seated,  and  where  a  kind  of  supercilious  smile  on  the 
attorney's  face  seemed  evoked  by  something  in  the  papers 
before  him. 

"  Some  cursed  folly  of  his  own,  —  some  of  that  blundering 
nonsense  that  he  fills  his  brains  with !  "  cried  Fagan,  as  he 
threw  indignantly  away  a  closely  written  sheet  of  paper,  the 
lines  of  which  unmistakably  proclaimed  verse. 

Joe  eyed  the  unhappy  document  wistfully  for  a  second  or 
two,  and  then,  with  a  stealthy  step,  he  crept  over,  and  threw 
it  into  the  hearth. 

"  I  found  out  the  passage,  Polly,"  said  he,  in  a  whisper, 
so  as  not  to  disturb  the  serious  conference  of  the  others  ;  and 
he  drew  a  few  well-thumbed  leaves  from  his  pocket,  and 
placed  them  beside  her,  while  she  bent  over  them  till  her 
glossy  ringlets  touched  the  page. 

"This  is  the  Medea,"  said  she;  "but  we  have  not  read 
that  yet." 

"  No,  Polly ;  you  remember  that  we  kept  it  for  the  winter 
nights ;  we  agreed  Tieck  and  Chamisso  were  better  for 
summer  evenings  —  '  Quando  ridono  i  prati,'  as  Petrarch 
says ; "  and  her  eyes  brightened,  and  her  cheek  glowed  as  he 
spoke.  "  How  beautiful  was  that  walk  we  took  on  Sunday 
evening  last !  That  little  glen  beside  the  river,  so  silent,  so 
still,  who  could  think  it  within  a  mile  or  two  of  a  great  city  ? 
What  a  delightful  thiug  it  is  to  think,  Polly,  that  they  who 
labor  hard  in  the  week  —  and  there  are  so  many  of  them !  — 
can  yet  on  that  one  day  of  rest  wander  forth  and  taste  of 
the  earth's  freshness. 

"  '  L'  oro  e  le  perle  —  i  fior  vermegli  ed  i  bianchi.'  " 

"  Confound  your  balderdash !  "  cried  Fagan,  passionately ; 
"you've  put  me  out  in  the  tot  —  seventeen  and  twelve, 
twenty-nine  —  two  thousand  nine  hundred  pounds,  with  the 
accruing  interest.    I  don't  see  that  he  has  added  the  interest." 

Mr.  Crowther  bent  patiently  over  the  document  for  a  few- 
minutes,  and  then,  taking  off  his  spectacles,  and  wiping 
them  slowly,   said,  in  his  blandest  voice:    "It  appears  to 


48  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

me  that  Mr.  Raper  has  omitted  to  calculate  the  interest. 
Perhaps  he  would  kindly  vouchsafe  us  his  attention  for  a 
moment." 

Raper  was,  however,  at  that  moment  deaf  to  all  such 
appeals ;  his  spirit  was  as  though  wandering  free  beneath  the 
shade  of  leafy  bowers  or  along  the  sedgy  banks  of  some 
clear  lake. 

"  You  remember  Dante's  lines,  Polly,  and  how  he 
describes  — 

"  '  La  divina  foresta  — 
Che  agli  occhi  temperava  il  nuovo  giorno, 
Senza  piu  aspettar  lasciai  la  riva, 
Prendendo  la  campagna  lento  lento.' 

How  beautiful  the  repetition  of  the  word  '  lento ; '  how  it 
conveys  the  slow  reluctance  of  his  step !  " 

"  There  is,  to  my  thinking,  even  a  more  graceful  instance 
in  Metastasio,"  said  Polly  :  — 

" '  L'  onda  che  mormora, 
Fra  sponda  e  sponda, 
L'  aura  che  tremola, 
Fra  fronda  e  frouda.'  " 

"  Raper,  Raper,  — do  you  hear  me,  I  say?"  cried  Fagan, 
as  he  knocked  angrily  with  his  knuckles  on  the  table. 

"  We  are  sorry,  Miss  Fagan,"  interposed  Crowther,  "  to 
interrupt  such  intellectual  pleasure,  but  business  has  its 
imperative  claims." 

"  I  'm  ready  —  quite  ready,  sir,"  said  Joe,  rising  in  confu- 
sion, and  hastening  across  the  room  to  where  the  others  sat. 

"Take  a  seat,  sir,"  said  Fagan,  peremptorily;  "for  here 
are  some  points  which  require  full  explanation.  And  I 
would  beg  to  remind  you  that  if  the  cultivation  of  your 
mind,  as  I  have  heard  it  called,  interferes  with  your  attention 
to  office  duties,  it  would  be  as  well  to  seek  out  some  more 
congenial  sphere  for  its  development  than  my  humble  house. 
I  'm  too  poor  a  man  for  such  luxurious  dalliance,  Mr. 
Raper."  These  words,  although  spoken  in  a  whisper,  were 
audible  to  him  to  whom  they  were  addressed,  and  he  heard 
them  in  a  state  of  half-stupefied  amazement.  "For  the 
present,  I  must  call  your  attention  to  this.     What  is  it?  " 


JOE   RAPER.  49 

Raper  was  no  sooner  in  the  midst  of  figures  and  calcula- 
tions than  all  his  instincts  of  otlice-life  recalled  him  to  him- 
self, and  he  began  rapidly  but  clearly  to  explain  the  strange 
and  confused-looking  documents  which  were  strewn  before 
him,  and  Crowther  could  not  but  feel  struck  by  the  admirable 
memory  and  systematic  precision  which  alone  could  derive 
information  from  such  disorderly  materials.  Even  Fagau 
himself  was  so  carried  away  by  a  momentary  impulse  of 
enthusiasm  as  to  say,  "When  a  man  is  capable  of  such  a 
statement  at  this,  what  a  disgrace  that  he  should  fritter  away 
his  faculties  with  rhymes  and  legends!  " 

"Mr.  Raper  is  a  philosopher,  sir;  he  despises  the  base 
pursuits  and  grovelling  ambitions  of  us  lower  mortals,"  said 
Crowther,  with  a  well-feigned  humility. 

"  We  must  beg  of  him  to  lay  aside  his  philosophy,  then, 
for  this  evening,  for  there  is  much  to  be  done  yet,"  said 
Fagan,  untying  a  large  bundle  of  letters.  "This  is  the 
correspondence  of  the  last  year,  —  the  most  important 
of  all." 

"Large  sums!  large  sums,  these!  "  said  Crowther,  glan- 
cing his  eyes  over  the  papers.  "  You  appear  to  have  placed 
a  most  unlimited  confidence  in  this  young  gentleman,  —  a 
rery  well  merited  trust,  I  have  no  doubt." 

Fagan  made  no  reply,  but  a  slight  contortion  of  his  mouth 
and  eyebrows  seemed  to  offer  some  dissent  to  the  doctrine. 

"I  have  kept  the  tea  waiting  for  you,  Papa  Joe,"  said 
Polly,  who  took  the  opportunity  of  a  slight  pause  to  address 
him ;  and  Raper,  like  an  escaped  schoolboy,  burst  away 
from  his  task  at  a  word. 

"I  have  just  remembered  another  instance,  Polly,"  said 
he,  "  of  what  we  were  speaking  ;  it  occurs  in  Schiller,  — 

"  '  Es  bricht  sich  die  Wellen  mit  Macht  —  mit  Macht.'  " 

"Take  your  books  to  your  room,  Polly,"  said  Fagan, 
harshly;  "  for  I  see  that  as  long  as  they  are  here,  we  have 
little  chance  of  Mr.  Raper's  services." 

Polly  rose,  and  pressed  Joe's  hand  affectionately,  and 
then,  gathering  up  the  volumes  before  her,  she  left  the 
room.     Raper  stood  for  a  second  or  two  gazing  at  the  door 

4 


50  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

after  her  departure,  and  then,  heaving  a  faint  sigh,  muttered 
to  himself :  — 

"  I  have  just  recalled  to  mind  another,  — 

" '  Eine  Bliith',  eiue  Bliith'  mir  brich, 
Vom  den  Baum  ini  Garten.' 

Quite  ready,  sir,"  broke  he  in  suddenly,  as  a  sharp  summons 
from  Fagan's  knuckles  once  more  admonished  him  of  his 
duty  ;  and  now,  as  though  the  link  which  had  bound  him  to 
realms  of  fancy  was  snapped,  he  addressed  himself  to  his 
task  with  all  the  patient  drudgery  of  daily  habit. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

TWO    FRIENDS    AND   THEIR   CONFIDENCES. 

By  the  details  of  my  last  two  chapters,  I  have  been  obliged 
to  recede,  as  it  were,  from  the  due  course  of  my  story,  and 
speak  of  events  which  occurred  prior  to  those  mentioned  in 
a  former  chapter ;  but  this  irregularity  was  a  matter  of 
necessity,  since  I  could  not  pursue  the  narrative  of  my 
father's  life  without  introducing  to  the  reader  certain  char- 
acters who,  more  or  less,  exerted  an  influence  on  his  for- 
tunes. Let  me  now,  however,  turn  to  my  tale,  from  which 
it  is  my  intention  in  future  to  digress  as  seldom  as  possible. 
A  few  lines,  written  in  haste,  had  summoned  MacNaghten  to 
Castle  Carew,  on  the  morning  of  that  Friday  for  which  my 
father  had  invited  his  friends  to  dinner.  With  all  his  way- 
wardness, and  all  the  weaknesses  of  an  impulsive  nature,  Dan 
MacNaghten  stood  higher  in  my  father's  esteem  than  any 
other  of  his  friends.  It  was  not  alone  that  he  had  given  my 
father  the  most  signal  proofs  of  his  friendship,  but  that, 
throughout  his  whole  career,  marked  as  it  was  by  folly  and 
rashness,  and  the  most  thoughtless  extravagance,  he  had 
never  done  a  single  action  that  reflected  on  his  reputation 
as  a  man  of  honor,  nor,  in  all  the  triumphs  of  his  prosperous 
days,  or  in  the  trials  of  his  adverse  ones,  had  he  forfeited 
the  regard  of  any  who  knew  him.  My  father  had  intrusted 
to  him,  during  his  absence,  everything  that  could  be  done 
without  correspondence ;  for  amongst  Dan's  characteristics, 
none  was  more  remarkable  than  his  horror  of  letter- writing ; 
and  it  was  a  popular  saying  of  the  time  "  that  Dan  Mac- 
Naghten would  rather  fight  two  duels  than  write  one  chal- 
lenge." Of  course,  it  may  be  imagined  how  much  there  was 
for  two  such  friends  to  talk  over  when  they  met,  for  if  my 
father's  letters  were  few  and  brief,  MacNaghten's  were  still 
fewer  and  less  explicit,  leaving  voids  on  either  side  that 
nothing  but  a  meeting  could  supply. 


52  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

Early,  therefore,  that  Friday  morning,  Dan's  gig  and 
mottled  gray,  the  last  remnant  of  an  extensive  stable 
establishment,  rattled  up  the  avenue  of  Castle  Carew,  and 
MacNaghten  strolled  into  the  garden  to  loiter  about  till 
such  time  as  my  father  might  be  stirring.  He  was  not 
many  minutes  there,  however,  when  my  father  joined  him, 
and  the  two  friends  embraced  cordially,  and  arm-in-arm 
returned  to  the  house. 

It  was  not  without  astonishment  Dan  saw  that  the  break- 
fast-table was  spread  in  the  same  little  garden-room  which 
my  father  always  used  in  his  bachelor  days,  and,  still  more, 
that  only  two  places  were  laid. 

"You  are  wondering  where 's  my  wife,  Dan.  She  never 
breakfasts  with  me ;  nor  indeed,  do  we  see  each  other  till 
late  in  the  afternoon,  —  a  custom,  I  will  own,  that  I  used  to 
rebel  against  at  first,  but  I  'm  getting  more  accustomed  to  it 
now.  And,  after  all,  Dan,  it  would  be  a  great  sacrifice  of  all 
her  comfort  should  I  insist  on  a  change ;  so  I  put  up  with  it 
as  best  I  can." 

"  Perhaps  she'll  see  herself,  in  time,  that  these  are  not  the 
habits  here." 

"Perhaps  so,"  said  my  father;  "but  usually  French 
people  think  their  own  ways  the  rule,  and  all  others  the 
exception.  I  suppose  you  were  surprised  at  my  marriage, 
Dan." 

"  Faith,  I  was,  I  own  to  you.  I  thought  you  one  of  those 
inveterate  Irishers  that  could  n't  think  of  anything  but  Celtic 
blood.  You  remember,  when  we  were  boys,  how  we  used  to 
rave  on  that  theme." 

"  Very  true.  Like  all  the  grafts,  we  deemed  ourselves 
purer  than  the  ancient  stock ;  but  no  man  ever  knows  when, 
where,  or  whom  he  '11  marry.  It 's  all  nonsense  planning 
and  speculating  about  it»  You  might  as  well  look  out  for  a 
soft  spot  to  fall  in  a  steeplechase.  You  come  smash  down 
in  the  very  middle  of  your  speculations.  I  'in  sure,  as  for 
me,  I  never  dreamed  of  a  wife  till  I  found  that  I  had  one." 

"  I  know  so  well  how  it  all  happened,"  cried  Dan,  laugh- 
ing. "  You  got  up  one  of  those  delightful  intimacies  —  that 
pleasant,  familiar  kind  of  half-at-homishness  that  throws  a 
man   always  off   his  guard,  and   leaves  him  open  to  every 


TWO   FRIENDS   AND   THEIR   CONFIDENCES.  53 

assault  of  female  fascination,  just  when  he  fancies  that  he  is 
the  delight  of  the  whole  circle.  Egad,  I  've  had  at  least 
half-a-dozen  such,  and  must  have  been  married  at  least  as 
many  times,  if  somebody  had  n't  discovered,  in  the  mean 
while,  that  I  was  ruined." 

"  So  that  you  never  fell  in  love  in  your  prosperous  days, 
Dan?" 

"  Who  does  —  who  ever  did?  The  minor  that  wrote  son- 
nets has  only  to  come  of  age,  and  feel  that  he  can  indite 
a  check,  to  be  cured  of  his  love  fever.  Love  is  a  passion 
most  intimately  connected  with  laziness  and  little  money. 
Give  a  fellow  seven  or  eight  thousand  a-year,  good  health 
and  good  spirits,  and  I  '11  back  him  to  do  every  other  folly 
in  Christendom  before  he  thinks  of  marriage." 

"  From  all  of  which  I  am  to  conclude  that  you  set  down 
this  act  of  mine  either  as  a  proof  of  a  weak  mind  or  a  failing 
exchequer,"  said  my  father. 

"Not  in  your  case,"  said  he,  more  slowly,  and  with  a 
greater  air  of  reflection.  "  You  had  always  a  dash  of  ambi- 
tion about  you ;  and  the  chances  are  that  you  set  your 
affections  on  one  that  you  half  despaired  of  obtaining,  or 
had  really  no  pretentions  to  look  for.  I  see  I  'm  right, 
Walter,"  said  he,  as  my  father  fidgeted,  and  looked  con- 
fused. "  I  could  have  wagered  a  thousand  on  it,  if  I  had  as 
much.  You  entered  for  the  royal  plate,  and,  by  Jove !  I 
believe  you  were  right." 

"  You  have  not  made  so  bad  a  guess  of  it,  Dan  ;  but  what 
say  the  rest?     What's  the  town  gossip?" 

"  Do  you  not  know  Dublin  as  well  or  better  than  I  do? 
Can't  you  frame  to  a  very  letter  every  syllable  that  has  been 
uttered  on  the  subject?  or  need  I  describe  to  you  my  Lady 
Kilfoyle's  fan-shaking  horror  as  she  tells  of  '  that  poor  dear 
Carew,  and  his  unfortunate  marriage  with  Heaven  knows 
whom  ! '  Nor  Bob  French's  astonishment  that  you,  of  all 
men,  should  marry  out  of  your  sphere, — or,  as  lie  calls  it, 
your  '  spire.'  Nor  how  graphically  Mrs.  Stapleton  Harris 
narrates  the  manner  of  your  entanglement:  how  you  fought 
two  brothers,  and  only  gave  in  to  the  superior  force  of  an 
outraged  mamma  and  the  tears  of  your  victim  !  Nor  fifty 
other  similar  stories,  in  which  you  figured  alternately  as  the 


54  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

dupe  or  the  deceived,  — the  only  point  of  agreement  being 
a  universal  reprobation  of  one  who,  with  all  his  pretentions 
to  patriotism,  should  have  entirely  forgotten  the  claims  of 
Irish  manufacture." 

"  And  are  they  all  so  severe,  —  so  unjust?  " 

"  Very  nearly.  The  only  really  warm  defender  I  've  heard 
of  you,  was  one  from  whom  you  probably  least  expected  it." 

"  And  who  might  that  be?  " 

"  Can't  you  guess,  Watty?  " 

"  Harry  Blake  —  Redmond  —  George  Macartney?  " 

"  Confound  it,  you  don't  think  I  mean  a  man  !  " 

"  A  woman,  —  who  could  she  be?  Not  Sally  Talbot ;  not 
Lady  Jane  Rivers;  not  — " 

"Kitty  Dwyer;  and  I  think  you  might  have  guessed  her 
before,  Watty!  It  is  rather  late,  to  be  sure,  to  think  of  it; 
but  my  belief  is  that  you  ought  to  have  married  that  girl." 

"  She  refused  me,  Dan.  She  refused  me,"  said  my  father, 
growing  red,  between  shame  and  a  sense  of  irritation. 

"  There  's  a  way  of  asking  that  secures  a  refusal,  Watty. 
Don't  tell  me  Kitty  was  not  fond  of  you.  I  ought  to  know, 
for  she  told  me  so  herself." 

"  She  told  you  so,"  cried  my  father,  slowly. 

"  Ay,  did  she.  It  was  in  the  summer-house,  down  yonder. 
You  remember  the  day  you  gave  a  great  picnic  to  the  Car- 
biniers ;  they  were  ordered  off  to  India,  and  you  asked  them 
out  here  to  a  farewell  breakfast.  Well,  I  did  n't  know  then 
how  badly  matters  were  with  me.  I  thought  at  least  that 
I  could  scrape  together  some  thirteen  or  fourteen  hundreds 
a  year ;  and  I  thought,  too,  that  I  had  a  knowledge  of  the 
world  that  was  worth  as  much  more,  and  that  Kitty  Dwyer 
was  just  the  girl  that  suited  me.  She  was  never  out  of 
humor,  could  ride  anything  that  ever  was  backed,  did  n't 
care  what  she  wore,  never  known  to  be  sick,  sulky,  nor 
sorry  for  anything ;  and  after  a  country  dance  that  lasted 
two  hours,  and  almost  killed  everybody  but  ourselves,  I  took 
her  a  walk  round  the  gardens,  and  seated  her  in  the  summer- 
house  there.  I  need  n't  tell  all  I  said,"  continued  he,  with 
a  sigh.  **  I  believe  I  couldn't  have  pleaded  harder  for  my 
life,  if  it  was  at  stake ;  but  she  stopped  me  short,  and,  squeez- 
ing my  hand  between  both  of  hers,  said :  '  No,  Dan,  this 


TWO  FRIENDS  AND  THEIR  CONFIDENCES.  55 

cannot  be,  and  you  are  too  generous  to  ask  me  why.'  But 
I  was  not !  I  pressed  her  all  the  more  ;  and  at  last  —  not 
without  seeing  a  tear  in  her  eye,  too  —  I  got  at  her  secret, 
and  heard  her  say  your  name.  I  swore  by  every  saint  we 
could  either  of  us  remember,  never  to  tell  this  to  man  or 
mortal  living  ;  and  I  suppose,  in  strict  fact,  I  ought  n't  to  do 
so  now ;  but,  of  course,  it 's  the  same  thing  as  if  you  were 
dead,  and  you,  I  well  know,  will  never  breathe  it  again." 

"  Never!"  said  my  father,  and  sat  with  his  head  on  his 
hand,  unable  to  utter  a  word  more. 

"Poor  Kitty!"  said  Dan,  with  a  heavy  sigh,  while  he 
balanced  his  spoon  on  the  edge  of  his  teacup.  "  I  half 
suspect  she  is  the  only  one  in  the  world  that  you  ever 
seriously  wronged,  and  yet  she  is  the  very  first  to  uphold 
you." 

"But  you  are  unjust,  Dan,  —  most  unjust,"  cried  my 
father,  warmly.  "There  was  a  kind  of  flirtation  between 
us  —  I  don't  deny  it,  —  but  nothing  more  than  is  always  going 
forward  in  this  free-and-easy  land  of  ours,  where  people  play 
with  their  feelings  as  they  do  with  their  fortunes,  and  are 
quite  astonished  to  discover,  some  fine  morning,  that  they 
have  fairly  run  through  both  one  and  the  other.  I  liked  her, 
and  she  perhaps  liked  me,  somewhat  better  than  any  one  else 
that  she  met  as  often.  "We  got  to  become  very  intimate  ;  to 
feel  that  in  the  disposal  of  our  leisure  hours  —  which  meant 
the  livelong  day  —  we  were  excessively  necessary  to  each 
other ;  in  fact,  that  if  our  minds  were  not  quite  alike,  our 
tastes  were.  Of  course,  before  one  gets  that  far,  one's 
friends,  as  they  call  themselves,  have  gone  far  beyond  it. 
There  's  no  need  of  voarying  you  with  detail.  Somebody, 
I  'm  sure  I  forget  who  it  was,  now  took  occasion  to  tell  me 
that  I  was  bohr.ving  ill  to  Kitty ;  that  unless  I  really  intended 
seriously,  —  thai  '±  the  paraphrase  for  marriage,  —  my  atten- 
tions were  calculated  to  do  her  injury.  Ay,  by  Jove !  your 
match-making  moralists  talk  of  a  woman  as  they  would  of 
a  horse,  and  treat  a  broken  flirtation  as  if  it  were  a  breach 
of  warranty.  I  was,  I  own  it,  not  a  little  annoyed  at  the 
unnecessary  degree  of  interest  my  friends  insisted  on  taking 
in  my  welfare ;  but  I  was  not  fool  enough  to  go  to  war  with 
the  world  single-handed,  so  I  seemed  to  accept  the  counsel, 


56  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

and  went  niy  way.  That  same  day,  I  rode  out  with  Kitty. 
There  was  a  large  party  of  us,  but  by  some  chance  we  found 
ourselves  side  by  side  and  in  an  avenue  of  the  wood.  Quite 
full  as  my  mind  was  of  the  communication  of  the  morning, 
I  could  not  resist  my  usual  impulse,  which  was  to  talk  to  her 
of  any  or  every  thing  that  was  uppermost  in  my  thoughts.  I 
don't  mean  to  say,  Dan,  that  I  did  so  delicately,  or  even 
becomingly,  for  I  confess  to  you  I  had  grown  into  that  kind  of 
intimacy  whose  gravest  fault  is  that  it  has  no  reserve.  I  'm 
quite  certain  that  nothing  could  be  worse  in  point  of  taste  or 
feeling  than  what  I  said.  You  can  judge  of  it  from  her 
reply :  '  And  are  you  such  a  fool,  Walter,  as  to  cut  an  old 
friend  for  such  silly  gossip  ?  '  I  blundered  out  something  in 
defence  of  myself,  — floundered  away  into  all  kinds  of  stupid, 
unmeaning  apologies,  and  ended  by  asking  her  to  marry  me. 
Up  to  that  moment  we  were  conversing  in  all  the  freedom  of 
our  old  friendship,  not  the  slightest  reserve  on  either  side ; 
but  no  sooner  had  I  uttered  these  words  than  she  turned 
towards  me  with  a  look  so  sad  and  so  reproachful,  I  did  not 
believe  that  her  features  could  have  conveyed  the  expression, 
while,  in  a  voice  of  deepest  emotion,  she  said :  '  Oh,  "Walter, 
this  from  you ! '  I  was  brute  enough  —  there 's  only  one 
word  for  it  —  to  misunderstand  her;  and,  full  of  nryself  and 
the  splendid  offer  I  had  made  her,  and  my  confounded  amour 
propre,  I  muttered  something  about  the  opinion  of  the  world, 
the  voice  of  friends,  and  so  on.  '  Tell  your  friends,  then,' 
said  she,  and  with  such  an  emphasis  on  the  word,  — '  tell  your 
friends  that  I  refused  you !  '  and  giving  her  mare  a  tremen- 
dous cut  of  the  whip,  she  dashed  off  at  speed,  and  was  up 
with  the  others  before  I  had  even  presence  of  mind  to  follow 
her." 

' '  You  behaved  devilish  badly,  —  infamously.  If  I  'd  been 
her  brother,  I  'd  have  shot  you  like  a  dog ! "  cried  Dan, 
rising,  and  walking  the  room. 

"I  see  it,"  said  my  father,  covering  his  face  with  his 
handkerchief. 

"  I  am  sorry  I  said  that,  Watty,  — I  don't  mean  that," 
said  Dan,  laying  his  hand  on  my  father's  shoulder.  "It 
all  comes  of  that  infernal  system  of  interference !  If  they 
had  left  you  alone,  and  to  the  guidance  of  your  own  feelings, 


TWO  FRIENDS   AND   THEIR   CONFIDENCES.  57 

you  'd  never  have  gone  wrong.  But  the  world  will  poke  in 
its  d d  finger  everywhere.  It's  rather  hard,  when  good- 
breeding  protests  against  the  bystander  meddling  with  your 
game  at  chess,  that  he  should  have  the  privilege  of  obtrud- 
ing on  the  most  eventful  incident  of  your  existence." 

"  Let  us  never  speak  of  this  again,  Dan,"  said  my  father, 
looking  up  with  eyes  that  were  far  from  clear. 

MacXaghten  squeezed  his  hand,  and  said  nothing. 

"What  have  you  been  doing  with  Tony  Fagan,  Dan?" 
said  my  father,  suddenly.  "  Have  you  drawn  too  freely  on 
the  Grinder,  and  exhausted  the  liberal  resources  of  his  free- 
giving  nature?  " 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind ;  he  has  closed  his  books  against  me 
this  many  a  day.     But  why  do  you  ask  this?  " 

"Look  here."  And  he  opened  a  drawer  and  showed  a 
whole  mass  of  papers,  as  he  spoke.  "  Fagan,  whom  I 
regarded  as  an  undrainable  well  of  the  precious  metals, 
threatens  to  run  dry ;  he  sends  me  back  bills  unaccepted, 
and  actually  menaces  me  with  a  reckoning." 

' '  What  a  rascal,  not  to  be  satisfied  with  forty  or  fifty  per 
cent!  " 

"He  might  have  charged  6ixty,  Dan,  if  he  would  only 
'  order  the  bill  to  lie  on  the  table.'  But  see,  he  talks  of  a 
settlement,  and  even  hints  at  a  lawyer." 

"  You  ought  to  have  married  Polly." 

"Pray,  is  there  any  one  else  that  I  should  have  married, 
Dan?"  cried  my  father,  half  angrily;  "for  it  seems  to 
me  that  you  have  quite  a  passion  for  finding  out  alliances 
for  me." 

"Polly,  they  say,  will  have  three  hundred  thousand 
pounds,"  said  Dan,  slowly,  "  and  is  a  fine  girl  to  boot.  I 
assure  you,  Watty,  I  saw  her  the  other  day,  seated  in  the 
library  here;  and  with  all  the  splendor  of  your  stained-glass 
windows,  your  gold-fretted  ceiling,  and  your  gorgeous  tapes- 
tries,  she  looked  just  in  her  place.  Hang  me,  if  there  was  a 
particle  of  the  picture  in  better  style  or  taste  than  herself." 

"How  came  she  here?"  cried  my  father,  in  amazement. 
And  MaeNaghten  now  related  all  the  circumstances  of 
Fagan's  visit,  the  breakfast,  and  the  drive. 

"And   you   actually   sat   with   three    hundred    thousand 


58  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

pounds  at  your  side,"  said  my  father,  "  and  did  not  decamp 
with  it?" 

' '  I  never  said  she  had  the  money  in  her  pocket,  Watty. 
Egad  !  that  would  have  been  a  very  tempting  situation." 

"How  time  must  have  changed  you,  Dan,  when  you 
could  discuss  the  question  thus  calmly !  I  remember  the 
day  when  you  'd  have  won  the  race,  without  even  wasting 
a  thought  on  the  solvency  of  the  stakeholder." 

"  Faith,  I  believe  it  were  the  wisest  way,  after  all,  Watty," 
said  he,  carelessly;  "  but  the  fact  is,  in  the  times  you  speak 
of,  my  conscience,  like  a  generous  banker,  never  refused  my 
drafts ;  now,  however,  she  has  taken  a  circumspect  turn,  and 
I  'in  never  quite  certain  that  I  have  not  overdrawn  my  account 
with  her.  In  plain  words,  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  do 
with  premeditation  what  once  I  might  have  done  from 
recklessness." 

"  And  so  the  scruple  saved  Polly?"  cried  my  father. 

"Just  so;  not  that  I  had  much  time  to  reflect  on  it,  for 
the  blacks  were  pulling  fearfully,  and  Dan  had  smashed  his 
splinter-bar  with  a  kick.  Still,  in  coming  up  by  the  new 
shrubbery  there,  I  did  say  to  myself :  '  Which  road  shall  I 
take  ? '  The  ponies  were  going  to  decide  the  matter  for  me ; 
but  I  turned  them  short  round  with  a  jerk,  and  laid  the  whip 
over  their  flanks  with  a  cut,  —  the  dearest,  assuredly,  I  ever 
gave  to  horseflesh,  for  it  cost  me,  in  all  likelihood,  three 
hundred  thousand." 

"  Who  'd  have  ever  thought  Dan  MacNaghten's  conscience 
would  have  been  so  expensive !  " 

"  By  Jove,  Watty,  it's  the  only  thing  of  value  remaining 
to  me.  Perhaps  my  creditors  left  it  on  the  same  polite 
principle  that  they  allow  a  respectable  bankrupt  to  keep  his 
snuff-box  or  his  wife's  miniature,  —  a  cheap  complaisance 
that  reads  well  in  the  newspapers." 

"The  Grinder,  of  course,  thought  that  he  had  seen  the 
last  of  you,"  said  my  father,  laughing. 

"He  as  much  as  said  so  to  me  when  I  came  back.  He 
even  went  further,"  said  Dan,  reddening  with  anger  as  he 
spoke:  "  he  proposed  to  me  to  go  abroad  and  travel,  and 
that  he  would  pay  the  cost.  But  he  '11  scarcely  repeat  the 
insolence." 


TWO  FRIENDS  AND  THEIR  CONFIDENCES.  59 

"  Wh}*,  what  has  come  over  you  all  here?  I  scarcely  know 
you  for  what  I  left  you  some  short  time  back.  Dan  Mac- 
Naghten  taking  to  scruples,  and  Tony  Fagan  to  geuerosity, 
seem,  indeed,  too  much  for  common  credulity !  And  now 
as  to  politics,  Dan!  What  are  our  friends  doing?  for  I 
own  to  you  I  have  not  opened  one  of  Bagwell's  letters  since 
I  left  Paris." 

"  You  're  just  as  wise  as  if  you  had.  Tom  has  got  into 
all  that  Rotundo  cant  about  the  '  Convention,'  and  the 
'  Town  Council,'  and  the  '  Sub-Committee  of  Nine,'  so  that 
you'd  not  make  anything  out  of  the  correspondence.  I 
believe  the  truth  is,  that  the  Bishop  is  mad,  and  they  who 
follow  him  are  fools.  The  Government  at  first  thought  of 
buying  them  over ;  but  they  now  perceive  it 's  a  cheaper  and 
safer  expedient  to  leave  them  to  themselves  and  their  own 
indiscretions.  But  I  detest  the  subject ;  and  as  we  '11  have 
nothing  else  talked  of  to-day  at  dinner,  I  '11  cry  truce  till 
then.  Let  us  have  a  look  at  the  stable,  Watty.  I  want  to 
talk  to  }tou  about  the  '  nags.'  "  And  so  saying,  MacNaghten 
arose  from  table,  and,  taking  my  father's  arm,  led  him  away 
into  the  garden. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

SHOWING    HOW    CHANCE    IS    BETTER   THAN   DESIGN. 

It  was  not  the  custom  of  the  day  for  the  lady  of  the  house 
to  present  herself  at  dinner  when  the  party  consisted  solely 
of  men,  so  that  my  mother's  absence  from  table  appeared 
nothing  remarkable.  To  her,  however,  it  did  seem  some- 
what singular  that,  although  she  descended  to  the  drawing- 
room  in  all  the  charming  elegance  of  a  most  becoming 
costume,  not  one  of  the  guests  presented  himself  to  pay 
his  respects,  or,  as  she  would  have  said,  his  dutiful  homage. 
It  is  possible  that  my  father  had  forgotten  to  apprise  her 
that  the  company  of  a  dinner-party  were  not  usually  in  that 
temperate  and  discreet  frame  of  mind  which  would  make 
their  appearance  in  a  drawing-room  desirable.  In  his  va- 
rious lessons,  it  is  more  than  likely  that  this  escaped  him ; 
and  I  believe  I  am  not  far  wrong  in  wishing  that  many 
other  of  his  instructions  had  shared  the  same  fate.  The 
fact  was,  that  in  preparing  my  mother  for  the  duties  and 
requirements  of  a  novel  state  of  society,  he  had  given  her 
such  false  and  exaggerated  notions  of  the  country  and  the 
people,  she  had  imbibed  a  hundred  absurd  prejudices  about 
them  which,  had  she  been  left  to  her  own  unguided  good 
sense  and  tact,  she  would  have  totally  escaped ;  and  while, 
as  he  thought,  he  was  storing  her  mind  with  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  Ireland,  he  was  simply  presenting  her  with 
a  terrifying  picture  of  such  inconsistency,  incongruity,  and 
wrongheadedness  that  no  cleverness  on  her  part  could  ever 
succeed  in  combating. 

It  is  perfectly  true  that  the  courtly  deference  and  polished 
reserve  of  old  French  manners,  its  thousand  observances, 
and  its  unfailing  devotion  to  ladies,  were  not  the  striking 
features  of  Irish  country-house  life ;  but  there  was  a  great 


SHOWING   HOW   CHANCE   IS   BETTER   THAN  DESIGN.   61 

deal  in  common  between  them,  and  perhaps  no  country  of 
Em-ope  in  that  day  could  so  easily,  and  with  such  little 
sacrifice,  have  conformed  to  the  French  standard  of  good- 
breeding  as  Ireland  ;  and  I  have  little  doubt  that  if  left  to 
herself,  my  mother  would  have  soon  discovered  the  points 
of  contact,  without  even  troubling  her  head  or  puzzling  her 
ingenuity  over  their  discrepancies.  However  that  may  be, 
there  she  sat,  in  all  the  attractive  beauty  of  full  dress, 
alone  and  in  silence,  save  when  the  door  of  the  distant 
dinner-room  opening  bore  to  her  ears  the  wild  and  vociferous 
merriment  of  a  party  excited  by  wine  and  conviviality. 

I  know  not,  I  can  but  fancy,  what  thoughts  of  her  own 
dear  land  were  hers  at  that  moment,  what  memory  of  de- 
licious evenings  spent  amidst  alleys  of  orange  and  lime 
trees,  the  rippling  fountain  mingling  its  sounds  with  the 
more  entrancing  music  of  flattery ;  what  visions  rose  before 
her  of  scenes  endeared  from  infancy,  of  objects  that  recalled 
that  soft,  luxurious  dalliance  which  makes  of  life  a  dream. 
I  can  but  imagine  that  of  this  kind  were  her  reveries,  as  she 
sat  in  solitude,  or  slowly  paced  up  and  down  the  immense 
room  which,  but  partially  lighted  up,  looked  even  larger 
than  it  was.  To  cut  off  every  clew  to  her  family,  my 
father  had  sent  back  from  England  the  maid  who  accom- 
panied her.  and  taken  in  her  place  one  who  knew  nothing 
of  my  mother's  birth  or  connections,  so  that  she  had  not 
even  the  solace  of  so  much  confidential  intercourse,  and  was 
utterly,  completely  alone.  While  in  Wales  she  had  been 
my  father's  companion  for  the  entire  day,  accompanying 
him  when  he  walked  or  rode,  and  beside  him  on  the  river's 
bank  as  he  fished;  scarcely  had  they  arrived  in  Ireland, 
however,  when  the  whole  course  of  life  was  changed.  The 
various  duties  of  his  station  took  up  much  of  his  time,  he 
was  frequently  occupied  all  the  day,  and  they  met  but 
rarely;  hence  had  she  adopted  those  old  habits  of  her  native 
country,  —  that  self-indulgent  system  which  surrounds  it- 
self with  few  cares,  fewer  duties,  and,  alas  !   no  resources. 

So  fearful  was  my  father  that  she  might  take  a  dislike  to 
the  country  from  the  first  impressions  produced  upon  her  by 
new  acquaintances  that  he  actually  avoided  every  one  of  his 
neighbors,  hesitating  where  or  with  whom  to  seek  companion- 


62  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

ship  for  his  wife :  some  were  too  old,  some  too  vulgar,  some 
were  linked  with  an  objectionable  "  set,"  some  were  of  the 
opposite  side  in  politics.  His  fastidiousness  increased  with 
every  day ;  and  while  he  was  assuring  her  that  there  was  a 
delightful  circle  into  which  she  would  be  received,  he  was 
gradually  offending  every  one  of  his  old  neighbors  and  asso- 
ciates. Of  the  great  heap  of  cards  which  covered  her  table, 
she  had  not  yet  seen  one  of  the  owners,  and  already  a  hun- 
dred versions  were  circulated  to  account  fdr  the  seclusion  in 
which  she  lived. 

I  have  been  obliged  to  burden  my  reader  with  these 
explanations,  for  whose  especial  enlightenment  they  are 
intended,  for  I  desire  that  he  should  have  as  clear  an  idea  of 
the  circumstances  which  attended  my  mother's  position  as  I 
am  able  to  convey,  and  without  which  he  would  be  probably 
unjust  in  his  estimate  of  her  character.  In  all  likelihood 
there  is  not  any  one  less  adapted  to  solitude  than  a  young, 
very  handsome,  and  much-flattered  Frenchwoman.  Neither 
her  education  nor  her  tastes  fit  her  for  it ;  and  the  very  qual- 
ities which  secure  her  success  in  society  are  precisely  those 
which  most  contribute  to  melancholy  when  alone ;  wit  and 
brilliancy  when  isolated  from  the  world  being  like  the  gold 
and  silver  money  which  the  shipwrecked  sailor  would  will- 
ingly have  bartered  for  the  commonest  and  vilest  articles  of 
simple  utility. 

Let  the  reader,  then,  bearing  all  this  in  his  mind,  picture 
to  himself  my  mother,  who,  as  the  night  wore  on,  became 
more  and  more  impatient,  starting  at  every  noise,  and  watch- 
ing the  door,  which  she  momentarily  expected  to  see  open. 

During  all  this  time,  the  company  of  the  dinner-room  were 
in  the  fullest  enjoyment  of  their  conviviality,  —  and  let  me 
add,  too,  of  that  species  of  conviviality  for  which  the  Ireland 
of  that  day  was  celebrated.  It  is  unhappily  too  true :  those 
habits  of  dissipation  prevailed  to  such  an  extent  that  a 
dinner-party  meant  an  orgie ;  but  it  is  only  fair  to  remember 
that  it  was  not  a  mere  festival  of  debauch,  but  that  native 
cleverness  and  wit,  the  able  conversationalist,  the  brilliant 
talker,  and  the  lively  narrator  had  no  small  share  in  the 
intoxication  of  the  hour.  There  was  a  kind  of  barbaric 
grandeur  in  the  Irish  country  gentleman  of  the  time  —  with 


SHOWING   HOW   CHANCE   IS  BETTER   THAN   DESIGN.    63 

his  splendid  retinue,  his  observance  of  the  point  of  honor, 
his  contempt  of  law,  and  his  generous  hospitality  —  that 
made  him  a  very  picturesque,  if  not  a  very  profitable,  feature 
of  his  native  country.  The  exact  period  to  which  I  refer 
was  remarkable  in  this  respect :  the  divisions  of  politics  had 
risen  to  all  the  dignity  of  a  great  national  question,  and  the 
rights  of  Ireland   were  then  on  trial. 

It  is  not  my  object,  perhaps  as  little  would  it  be  the 
reader's  wish,  to  enter  on  any  description  of  the  table-talk, 
where  debates  in  the  House,  duels,  curious  assize  cases,  hard 
runs  with  fox-hounds,  adventures  with  bailiffs,  and  affairs  of 
gallantry  all  followed  pell-mell,  in  wild  succession.  None 
were  above  telling  of  their  own  defeats  and  discomfitures. 
There  was  little  of  that  overweening  self-esteem  which  in  our 
time  stifles  many  a  good  story,  for  fear  of  the  racy  ridicule 
that  is  sure  to  follow  it.  Good  fellowship  and  good  temper 
were  supreme,  and  none  felt  that  to  be  offence  which  was 
uttered  in  all  the  frank  gayety  of  the  bottle.  Even  then  the 
western  Irishman  had  his  distinctive  traits ;  and  while  the 
taste  for  courtly  breeding  and  polished  manners  was  gradu- 
ally extending,  he  took  a  kind  of  pride  in  maintaining  his 
primitive  habits  of  dress  and  demeanor,  and  laughed  at  the 
newfangled  notions  as  a  fashionable  folly  that  would  last  its 
hour  and  disappear  again.  Of  this  school  was  a  certain  Mr., 
or  rather,  as  he  was  always  called,  "  Old  Bob  Ffrench,"  the 
familiar  epithet  of  Bitter  Bob  being  his  cognomen  among 
friends  and  intimates.  I  am  unwilling  to  let  my  readers 
suppose,  even  for  a  moment,  that  he  really  deserved  the  dis- 
paraging prefix.  He  was,  indeed,  the  very  emblem  of  an 
easy-tempered,  generous-hearted  old  man,  the  utmost  extent 
of  whose  bitterness  was  the  coarseness  of  a  manner  that, 
however  common  in  his  own  country,  formed  a  strong  con- 
trast to  the  tone  of  the  capital.  Although  a  man  of  a  large 
fortune  and  ancient  family,  in  his  dress  and  appearance  he 
looked  nothing  above  the  class  of  a  comfortable  farmer. 
His  large  loose  brown  coat  was  decorated  with  immense 
silver  buttons,  and  his  small  clothes,  disdaining  all  aid  from 
braces,  displayed  a  liberal  margin  of  linen  over  his  hips;  but 
his  stockings  were  most  remarkable  of  all,  being  of  lamb's 
wool  and  of  two  colors,  a  light-brown  and  blue,  —  an  inven- 


64  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

tiou  of  his  own  to  make  them  easy  of  detection  if  stolen, 
but  which  assuredly  secured  their  safety  on  better  grounds. 
He  was  a  member  of  Parliament  for  a  western  borough  ;  and 
despite  many  peculiarities  of  diction,  and  an  occasional 
lapse  of  grammar,  was  always  listened  to  with  attention  in 
the  House,  and  respected  for  the  undeviating  honor  and 
manly  frankness  of  his  character.  Bob  had  been,  as  usual, 
an  able  contributor  to  the  pleasures  of  the  evening ;  he  had 
sung,  told  stories,  joked,  and  quizzed  every  one  around  him, 
and  even,  in  a  burst  of  confidence,  communicated  the  heads 
of  a  speech  he  was  about  to  make  in  the  House  on  the  ques- 
tion of  reform,  when  he  suddenly  discovered  that  his  snuff- 
box was  empty.  Now,  amongst  his  many  peculiarities,  one 
was  the  belief  that  no  man  in  Ireland  knew  how  to  apportion 
the  various  kinds  of  tobacco  like  himself,  and  Bob's  mixture 
was  a  celebrated  snuff  of  the  time. 

To  replenish  his  box  he  always  carried  a  little  canister  in 
his  great-coat  pocket,  but  never  would  intrust  the  care  of 
this  important  casket  to  a  servant ;  so  that  when  he  saw  that 
he  was  "  empty,"  he  quietly  stole  from  the  room  and  went 
in  search  of  his  great-coat.  It  was  not  without  some  diffi- 
culty that  he  found  his  way  through  the  maze  of  rooms  and 
corridors  to  the  antechamber  where  he  had  deposited  his  hat 
and  coat.  Having  found  it  at  last,  however,  he  set  out  to 
retrace  his  steps ;  but  whether  it  was  that  the  fresh  air  of 
the  cool  galleries,  or  the  walking,  or  that  the  wine  was  only 
then  producing  its  effects,  certain  is  it  Mr.  Ffrench's  facul- 
ties became  wonderfully  confused.  He  thought  he  remem- 
bered a  certain  door ;  but,  to  his  misery,  there  were  at  least 
half-a-dozen  exactly  like  it ;  he  knew  that  he  turned  off  into 
a  passage,  but  passages  and  corridors  opened  on  all  sides  of 
him.  How  heartily  did  he  curse  the  architect  that  could  not 
build  a  house  like  all  the  world,  with  a  big  hall,  having  the 
drawing-room  to  the  left  and  the  dinner-room  to  the  right,  — 
an  easy  geography  that  any  one  could  recollect  after  dinner 
as  well  as  before.  With  many  a  malediction  on  all  new- 
fangled notions,  he  plodded  on,  occasionally  coming  to  the 
end  of  an  impassable  gallery,  or  now  straying  into  rooms  in 
total  darkness.  "  A  blessed  way  to  be  spending  the  even- 
ing," muttered  he  to  himself;   "  and  maybe  these  rascals  are 


SHOWING  HOW  CHANCE   IS  BETTER  THAN   DESIGN.   65 

quizzing  me  all  this  time."  Though  he  frequently  stopped  to 
listen,  he  never  could  catch  the  sounds  of  a  conviviality  that 
he  well  knew  was  little  measured,  and  hence  he  opined  that 
he  must  have  wandered  far  away  from  the  right  track.  In 
the  semi-desperation  of  the  moment,  he  would  gladly  have 
made  his  escape  by  a  window,  and  trusted  to  his  chance  of 
discovering  the  hall  door ;  but  unfortunately  the  artifices  of 
a  modern  window-bolt  so  completely  defied  his  skill  that 
even  this  resource  was  denied  him.  "  I'll  take  one  'cast' 
more,"  muttered  he,  "  and  if  that  fails,  I'll  lie  down  on  the 
first  snug  place  I  can  find  till  morning."  It  became  soon 
evident  to  him  that  he  had,  at  least,  entered  new  precincts ; 
for  he  now  found  himself  in  a  large  corridor,  splendidly 
lighted,  and  with  a  rich  carpeting  on  the  floor.  There  were 
several  doors  on  either  side,  but  although  he  tried  them  each 
in  turn,  they  were  all  locked.  At  last  he  came  to  a  door  at 
the  extreme  end  of  the  gallery,  which  opened  to  his  hand, 
and  admitted  him  into  a  spacious  and  magnificently  furnished 
apartment,  partially  lit  up,  and  by  this  deceptive  light  ad- 
mitting glimpses  of  the  most  rare  and  costly  objects  of 
china,  glass,  and  marble.  It  needed  not  the  poetizing  effects 
of  claret  to  make  Bob  fancy  that  this  was  a  fairy  palace ; 
but  perhaps  the  last  bottle  contributed  to  this  effect,  for  he 
certainly  stood  amazed  and  confounded  at  a  degree  of  mag- 
nificence and  splendor  with  which  he  had  never  seen  anything 
to  compare.  Vainly  endeavoring  to  peer  through  the  dubious 
half  light,  and  see  into  the  remote  distance  of  the  chamber, 
Ffrench  reached  the  middle  of  the  room,  when  he  heard,  or 
thought  he  heard,  the  rustling  sounds  of  silk.  It  was  in  the 
days  of  hoops  and  ample  petticoats.  He  turned  abruptly, 
and  there  stood  directly  in  front  of  what,  in  his  own  descrip- 
tion, he  characterized  as  "the  elegantest  crayture  ye  ever 
set  eyes  upon."  Young,  beautiful,  and  most  becomingly 
dressed,  it  is  no  wonder  if  my  mother  did  produce  a  most 
entrancing  effect  on  his  astounded  senses.  Never  for  a 
moment  suspecting  that  his  presence  was  the  result  of  an 
accident,  my  mother  courtesied  very  low,  and.  with  a  voice 
and  a  smile  of  ineffable  sweetness,  addressed  him.  Alas ! 
poor  Bob's  mystifications  were  not  to  end  here,  for  she  spoke 
in  French;  and  however  distinguished  the  City  of  the  Tribes 

5 


66  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

might  be  in  many  respects,  that  language  was  but  little  cul- 
tivated there.  He  could,  therefore,  only  bow,  and  lay  his 
hand  on  his  heart,  and  look  as  much  devotion,  respect,  and 
admiration  as  it  was  in  his  power  to  express  at  that  late  hour 
of  the  evening. 

' '  Perhaps  you  '11  accept  of  a  cup  of  tea  ? "  said  she  at 
length,  leading  the  way  towards  the  table ;  and  as  Ffrench 
said,  afterwards,  that  he  never  declined  drink,  no  matter 
what  the  liquor,  he  readily  consented,  and  took  his  place 
beside  her  on  the  sofa.  Full  of  all  my  father's  lessons  and 
precepts  about  the  civilities  she  was  to  bestow  on  the  Irish 
gentlemen  and  their  wives,  the  importance  of  creating  the 
most  favorable  impression  on  them,  and  ingratiating  herself 
into  their  esteem,  my  mother  addressed  herself  to  the  task 
in  right  earnest.  Her  first  care  was  to  become  intelligible, 
and  she  accordingly  spoke  in  the  slowest  and  most  measured 
manner,  so  as  to  give  the  foreigner  every  possible  facility  to 
follow  her.  Her  second  was  to  impose  as  little  necessity  on 
her  companion  for  reply  as  it  was  possible.  She  accordingly 
talked  on  of  Ireland,  of  the  capital,  the  country,  the  scenery 
about  them,  the  peasantry,  —  everything,  in  short,  that  she 
could  think  of,  and  always  in  a  tone  of  praise  and  admira- 
tion. The  single  monosyllable  "oui"  was  the  whole  stock 
of  old  Bob's  French,  but,  as  he  often  remarked,  "we  hear 
of  a  man  walking  from  Ballinasloe  to  Dublin  with  only 
tu'pence  in  his  pocket ;  and  I  don't  see  why  he  should  not  be 
able  to  economize  his  parts  of  speech  like  his  pence,  and 
travel  through  the  French  dictionary  with  only  one  word  of 
it!  "  Bob's  "oui"  was  uttered,  it  is  true,  with  every  pos- 
sible variety  of  tone  and  expression.  It  was  assent,  convic- 
tion, surprise,  astonishment,  doubt,  and  satisfaction,  just  as 
he  uttered  it.  So  long  debarred  from  all  intercourse  with 
strangers,  it  is  not  improbable  that  my  mother  was  perfectly 
satisfied  with  one  who  gave  her  the  lion's  share  of  the  con- 
versation. She  certainly  seemed  to  ask  for  no  higher  efforts 
at  agreeability  than  the  attention  he  bestowed,  and  he  often 
confessed  that  he  could  have  sat  for  a  twelvemonth  listening 
to  her,  and  fancying  to  himself  all  the  sweet  things  that  he 
hoped  she  was  saying  to  him.  Doubtless  not  ignorant  of 
her  success,  she  was  determined  to  achieve  a  complete  vie- 


SHOWING  HOW  CHANCE  IS  BETTER  THAN  DESIGN.  67 

tory,  for  after  upwards  of  an  hour  speaking  in  this  manner, 
she  asked  him  if  he  liked  music.  Should  she  sing  for  him? 
The  "  oui"  was  of  course  ready,  and  without  further  preface 
she  arose  and  wTalked  over  to  the  pianoforte.  The  fascina- 
tion which  was  but  begun  before  was  now  completed,  for, 
however  weak  his  appreciation  of  her  conversational  ability, 
he  could,  like  nearly  all  his  countrymen,  feel  the  most  intense 
delight  in  music.  It  was  fortunate,  too,  that  the  tastes  of 
that  clay  did  not  rise  beyond  those  light  "  chansonettes," 
those  simple  melodies  which  are  so  easy  to  execute  that  they 
are  within  the  appreciation  of  the  least-educated  ears. 

Had  the  incident  occurred  in  our  own  day,  the  chances  are 
that  some  passionate  scene  from  Verdi,  or  some  energetic 
outburst  of  despised  love  or  betrayed  affection  from  Doni- 
zetti or  Meyerbeer,  had  been  the  choice,  and  poor  Bob  had 
gone  away  with  a  lamentable  opinion  of  musical  science,  and 
regret  for  the  days  when  "  singing  was  preferred  to  screech- 
ing." Happily  the  ballad  was  more  in  vogue  then  than  the 
bravura,  and  instead  of  holding  his  ears  with  his  hands,  Bob 
felt  them  tremble  with  ecstasy  as  he  listened.  En  joying 
thoroughly  a  praise  so  heartily  accorded,  my  mother  sung  on, 
song  after  song :  now  some  bold  k '  romance  "  of  chivalry, 
now  some  graceful  little  air  of  pastoral  simplicity.  No  mat- 
ter what  the  theme,  the  charm  of  the  singer  was  over  him, 
and  he  listened  in  perfect  rapture !  There  is  no  saying  to 
what  pitch  of  enthusiasm  he  might  have  soared,  had  he  felt 
the  fascination  of  the  words  as  he  appreciated  the  flood  of 
melody.  As  it  was,  so  completely  was  he  carried  away  by 
his  emotions  that  in  a  rapture  of  admiration  and  delight  he 
threw  himself  on  his  knees,  and,  seizing  her  hand,  covered  it 
with  kisses. 

"You're  an  angel;  you're  the  loveliest,  sweetest,  and 
most  enchanting  crayture  —  "  He  had  got  thus  far  in  his 
rhapsody  when  my  father  entered  the  room,  and,  throwing 
himself  into  a  chair,  laughed  till  the  tears  ran  down  his 
cheeks. 

••P>ob!  Bob!"  cried  he,  "is  this  quite  fair,  I  say?" 
And  the  old  man,  at  once  alive  to  the  bantering  and  ridicule 
to  which  his  adventure  would  expose  him,  got  slowly  up  and 
resumed  his  seat,  with  a  most  ludicrous  expression  of  shame 
on  his  features. 


68  SIR   JASPER   CAREW. 

"There  is  no  necessity  of  introducing  one  of  my  oldest 
friends  to  you,  Josephine,"  said  my  father.  "  He  has 
already  done  so  without  my  intervention,  and,  I  must  say, 
he  seems  to  have  lost  no  time  in  pushing  the  acquaintance." 

"He  is  quite  charming,"  said  my  mother.  "We  had  an 
old  Marquis  de  Villebois  so  like  him,  and  he  was  the  delight 
of  our  neighborhood  in  Provence." 

"  I  see  what  it  is  now,"  muttered  Ffrench,  "  you  are 
cuttiug  me  up,  between  you  ;  but  I  deserve  it  well.  I  was  an 
old  fool,  —  I  am  ashamed  of  myself." 

"  Are  you  going  away?  "  cried  my  mother. 

"  What  is  she  sayiug?  "  asked  he. 

"  She  asks  if  you  have  really  the  heart  to  leave  her," 
rejoined  my  father,  laughing. 

"  Begad,  you  may  laugh  now,  Watty,"  replied  he,  in  a 
half-angry  tone;  "  but  I  tell  you  what  it  is,  you'd  neither 
be  so  ready  with  your  fun,  nor  so  willing  to  play  interpreter, 
if  old  Bob  was  the  same  man  he  was  five-and-thirty  years 
ago !  — No,  ma'am,  he  would  not,"  added  he,  addressing  my 
mother.  "But  maybe,  after  all,  it's  a  greater  triumph  for 
you  to  turn  an  old  head  than  a  young  one." 

He  hurried  away  after  this ;  and  although  my  father  fol- 
lowed him,  and  did  all  in  his  power  to  make  him  join  his 
companions  at  table,  it  was  in  vain ;  he  insisted  on  going 
to  his  room,  probably  too  full  of  the  pleasant  vision  he  had 
witnessed  to  destroy  the  illusion  by  the  noisy  merriment  of 
a  drinking-party. 

Trivial  as  the  event  was  in  itself,  it  was  not  without  its 
consequences.  Bob  Ffrench  had  spread  the  fame  of  my 
mother's  beauty  and  accomplishments  over  Dublin  before 
the  following  week  closed,  and  nothing  else  was  talked  of  in 
the  society  of  the  capital.  My  father,  seeing  that  all  further 
reserve  on  his  part  was  out  of  the  question,  and  being  satis- 
fied besides  that  my  mother  had  acquitted  herself  most 
successfully  in  a  case  of  more  than  ordinary  difficulty, 
resolved  on  leaving  the  rest  to  fortune. 

From  all  that  I  have  ever  heard  of  the  society  of  the  time, 
and  from  what  has  reached  me  by  description  of  my  mother's 
manner  and  deportment,  I  am  fully  convinced  that  she  was 
exactly  the  person  to  attain  an  immense  popularity  with  all 


SHOWING  HOW  CHANCE   IS  BETTER  THAN  DESIGN.    69 

classes.  The  natural  freshness  and  gayety  of  her  character, 
aided  by  beauty  and  the  graceful  duties  of  a  hostess,  — 
which  she  seemed  to  fill  as  by  an  instinct,  —  made  her  the 
object  of  universal  admiration,  — a  homage  which,  I  believe, 
it  was  not  difficult  to  see  was  even  more  pleasing  to  my 
father  than  to  herself. 

Castle  Carew  was  from  this  time  crowded  with  visitors, 
who,  strangely  enough,  represented  the  most  opposite  sections 
of  politics  and  party.  My  father's  absence  during  some  of 
the  most  exciting  sessions  of  parliamentary  life  had  invested 
him  with  a  species  of  neutrality  that  made  his  house  an  open 
territory  for  men  of  all  shades  of  opinion ;  and  he  was  but 
too  glad  to  avail  himself  of  the  privilege  to  form  acquain- 
tance with  the  most  distinguished  leaders  of  opposite  sections 
of  the  House ;  and  here  were  now  met  the  Castle  officials,  the 
chiefs  of  Opposition,  the  violent  antagonists  of  debate,  not 
sorry,  perhaps,  for  even  this  momentary  truce  in  the  strife 
and  conflict  of  a  great  political  campaign. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


A    STATE    TRUMPETER. 


The  27th  of  May,  1782,  was  the  day  ou  which  Parliament 
was  to  assemble  in  Dublin,  and  under  circumstances  of  more 
than  ordinary  interest.  The  great  question  of  the  indepen- 
dence of  the  Irish  Legislature  was  then  to  be  discussed  and 
determined ;  and  never  was  the  national  mind  so  profoundly 
excited  as  when  that  time  drew  near.  They  who  have  only 
known  Ireland  in  a  later  period,  when  her  political  convul- 
sions have  degenerated  into  low  sectarian  disputes,  —  irregular 
irruptions,  headed  by  men  of  inferior  ability,  and  stimulated 
solely  by  personal  considerations,  —  cau  scarcely  form  any 
idea  of  Dublin  in  the  days  of  the  Volunteers.  It  was  not 
alone  that  the  Court  of  the  Viceroy  was  unusually  splendid, 
or  that  the  presence  of  the  Parliament  crowded  the  capital 
with  all  the  country  could  boast  of  wealth,  station,  and 
influence,  but  that  the  pomp  and  parade  of  a  powerful  army 
added  brilliancy  and  grandeur  to  a  spectacle  which,  for  the 
magnitude  of  the  interests  at  stake,  and  the  genius  and 
capacity  of  those  that  controlled  them,  had  not  its  superior 
in  Europe. 

The  position  of  England  at  the  moment  was  pregnant 
with  anxiety ;  at  war  with  two  powerful  nations,  she  had 
more  than  ever  reason  to  conciliate  the  feelings  and  consult 
the  wishes  of  Ireland.  The  modern  theory  of  English 
necessity  being  Irish  opportunity  had  not  the  same  preva- 
lence then  as  in  our  own  da}7,  but  still  it  had  some  followers, 
not  one  of  whom  more  profoundly  believed  the  adage,  or  was 
more  prepared  to  stake  fortune  on  the  issue,  than  our 
acquaintance,  Anthony  Fagan. 

If  the  Grinder  was  not  possessed  of  very  sage  and  states- 
manlike opinions  on  politics  generally,  he  was,  on  Irish 
questions,  fully  as  far  advanced  as  the  patriots  of  our  own 


A   STATE   TRUMPETER.  71 

time;  his  creed  of  "  Ireland  for  the  Irish"  comprising  every 
article  of  his  political  belief,  with  this  advantage  over  modern 
patriotism  that  he  was  immensely  rich,  and  quite  ready  to 
employ  his  wealth  in  the  furtherance  of  his  conviction.  He 
was  no  needy  adventurer,  seeking,  as  the  price  of  a  parlia- 
mentary display,  the  position  to  which  mere  professional 
attainments  would  never  have  raised  him,  but  a  hard-working, 
slow-thinking,  determined  man,  stimulated  by  the  ambition 
that  is  associated  with  great  riches,  and  stung  by  the  degrada- 
tion of  low  birth  and  proscribed  religion. 

Such  men  are  dangerous  in  proportion  as  they  are  single- 
minded.  Fagan,  with  all  his  sincerity  of  purpose,  failed  in 
this  respect,  for  he  was  passionate  and  resentful  to  an  ex- 
tent which  made  him  often  forget  everything  else  but  his 
desire  of  a  personal  reparation.  This  was  his  great  fault, 
and,  strange  enough,  too,  he  knew  it.  The  working  of  that 
failing,  and  his  iron  efforts  to  control  it,  made  up  the  whole 
character  of  the  man. 

The  gross  corruption  which  characterized  a  late  period  of 
Irish  history  was  then  comparatively  unknown.  It  is  very 
possible  that  had  it  been  attempted,  its  success  had  been 
very  inferior  to  that  it  was  destined  to  obtain  subsequently, 
for  the  whole  tone  of  public  feeling  was  higher  and  purer. 
Public  men  were  both  more  independent  in  property,  as  well 
as  principle,  and  no  distinction  of  talent  or  capacity  could 
have  dispensed  with  the  greater  gifts  of  honesty  and  good 
faith.  If  there  were  not  venality  and  low  ambition,  how- 
ever, to  work  upon,  there  were  other  national  traits  no  less 
open  to  the  seductive  arts  of  a  crafty  administration.  There 
was  a  warm-hearted  and  generous  confidence,  and  a  grati- 
tude that  actually  accepted  a  pledge,  and  acknowledged  it 
for  performance.  These  were  weaknesses  not  likely  to 
escape  the  shrewd  perception  of  party,  and  to  the  utmost 
were  they  profited  by.  The  great  game  of  the  government 
was  to  sow,  if  not  dissension,  at  least  distrust,  in  the  ranks 
of  the  national  party,  — to  chill  the  ardor  of  patriotism,  and, 
wherever  possible,  to  excite  different  views,  and  different 
roads  to  success,  amongst  the  popular  leaders  of  the  time. 
There  came  a  day  when  corruption  only  asked  to  see  a 
man's    rent-roll    and    the    list  of   his   mortgages,  when    his 


72  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

price  could  be  estimated  as  easily  as  an  actuary  can  cal- 
culate an  annuity  when  given  the  age  and  the  circumstances 
of  the  individual.  Then,  however,  the  investigation  de- 
manded nicer  aud  more  delicate  treatment,  for  the  question 
was  the  more  subtle  one  of  the  mixed  and  often  discord- 
ant motives  of  the  human  heart. 

The  Duke  of  Portland  was  well  calculated  to  carry  out  a 
policy  of  this  kind ;  but  I  am  far  from  suspecting  that  he 
was  himself  fully  aware  of  the  drama  in  which  he  acted. 
He  was  a  plain,  straightforward  man,  of  average  good  sense, 
but  more  than  average  firmness  and  determination.  He 
came  over  to  Ireland  thoroughly  impressed  with  the  favor- 
ite English  maxim  that  whatever  Irishmen  wish  is  assuredly 
bad  for  them,  and  thought,  like  the  old  physicians  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  that  a  patient's  benefit  was  in  the  exact 
proportion  to  his  repugnance  for  the  remedy.  I  am  not 
quite  sure  that  this  pleasant  theory  is  not  even  yet  the 
favorite  one  as  regards  Ireland,  which,  perhaps,  after  all, 
might  be  permitted  the  privilege  so  generally  accorded  to 
the  incurable,  to  take  a  little  medicine  of  her  own  prescrib- 
ing. Be  this  as  it  may,  I  am  convinced  that  the  Duke  of 
Portland  was  no  hypocrite,  but  firmly  believed  in  the  effi- 
cacy of  the  system  he  advocated,  and  only  made  use  of  the 
blandishments  and  hospitalities  of  his  station  to  facilitate 
connections  which  he  trusted  would  at  last  be  concurred  in 
on  the  unerring  grounds  of  reason  and  judgment.  What- 
ever people  may  say  or  think  to  the  contrary,  hypocrisy  — 
that  is,  a  really  well-sustained  and  long-maintained  hy- 
pocrisy —  is  one  of  the  rarest  things  to  be  met  with,  and 
might  even  be  suspected  never  to  exist  at  all,  since  the 
qualities  and  gifts  necessary,  or  indeed  indispensable,  to  its 
attainment  are  exactly  of  an  order  which  bespeaks  some 
of  the  first  and  greatest  traits  of  human  nature,  and  for 
that  reason  would  make  the  game  of  dissimulation  impos- 
sible ;  and  I  would  be  as  slow  to  believe  that  a  man  could 
search  the  heart,  study  the  passions,  weigh  the  motives,  and 
balance  the  impulses  of  his  fellow-men,  for  mere  purposes 
of  trick  or  deception,  as  that  a  doctor  would  devote  years  of 
toil  and  labor  in  his  art  for  the  sole  aim  of  poisoning  and 
destroying  his  patients. 


A   STATE   TRUMPETER.  73 

Few  men  out  of  the  lists  of  party  took  so  great  an  inter- 
est in  the  great  struggle  as  Tony  Fagan.  With  the  success 
of  the  patriotic  side  his  own  ambitions  were  intimately  in- 
volved. It  was  not  the  section  of  great  wealth,  and  there 
was  no  saying  to  what  eminence  a  man  of  his  affluence 
might  attain  amongst  them.  He  not  only  kept  a  registry 
of  all  the  members,  with  their  peculiar  leanings  and  party 
connections  annexed  to  it,  but  he  carefully  noted  down  any 
circumstance  likely  to  influence  the  vote  or  sway  the  mo- 
tives of  the  principal  leaders  of  the  people.  His  sources  of 
information  were  considerable,  and  penetrated  every  class 
of  society,  from  the  high  world  of  Dublin  down  to  the 
lowest  resorts  of  the  rabble.  The  needy  gentleman,  hard 
pressed  for  resources,  found  his  dealings  with  the  Grinder 
wonderfully  facilitated  by  any  little  communication  of  back- 
stairs doings  at  the  Castle,  or  the  secrets  of  the  chief 
secretary's  office;  while  the  humble  ballad-singer  of  the 
streets,  or  the  ragged  newsman,  were  equally  certain  of  a 
"  tester,"  could  they  only  supply  some  passing  incident  that 
bore  upon  the  relations  of  party. 

If  not  one  of  the  most  brilliant,  certainly  one  of  the  most 
assiduous  of  Fagan' s  emissaries  was  a  certain  Samuel  Cot- 
terell,  —  a  man  who  held  the  high  and  responsible  dignity  of 
state  trumpeter  in  the  Irish  Court.  He  was  a  large,  fine- 
looking,  though  somewhat  over-corpulent,  personage,  with  a 
most  imposing  dignity  of  air,  and  a  calm  self-possession  of 
manner  that  well  became  his  functions.  Perhaps  this  was 
natural  to  him ;  but  some  of  it  may  well  be  attributed  to  his 
sense  of  the  dignity  of  one  who  only  appeared  in  public  on 
the  very  greatest  occasions,  and  was  himself  the  herald  of  a 
splendid  ceremonial. 

From  long  association  with  the  Viceregal  Court,  he  had 
grown  to  believe  himself  a  part,  and  by  no  means  an  insigni- 
ficant part,  of  the  Government,  and  spoke  of  himself  as 
of  one  mysteriously  but  intimately  mixed  up  in  all  the  acts 
of  the  State.  The  pretentious  absurdity,  the  overweening 
vanity  of  the  man,  which  afforded  so  much  amusement  to 
Others,  gave  no  pleasure  to  Fagan,  —  they  rather  vexed  and 
irritated  him  ;  but  these  were  feelings  that  he  cautiously  con- 
cealed, for  he  well  knew  the  touchy  and  irritable  nature  of 


74  SIR   JASPER   CAREW. 

the  man,  and  that  whatever  little  information  could  be 
derived  from  him  was  only  come-at-able  by  indulging  his 
vein  of  self-esteem. 

It  had  been  for  years  his  custom  to  pay  a  visit  to  Fagan 
on  the  eve  of  any  great  solemnity,  and  he  was  snugly  in- 
stalled in  the  little  bow-window  on  the  evening  of  the  26th 
May,  with  a  goodly  array  of  glasses  and  a  very  formidable 
square  decanter  of  whiskey  on  a  table  in  front  of  him. 
Fagan,  who  never  could  trust  to  the  indiscreet  propensity 
of  Polly  to  "  quizz  "  his  distinguished  friend,  had  sent  her 
to  spend  the  day  in  the  country  with  some  acquaintances ; 
Raper  was  deep  in  a  difficult  passage  of  Richter,  in  his  own 
chamber ;  so  that  the  Grinder  was  free  to  communicate  with 
the  great  official  unmolested  and  undisturbed. 

Most  men  carry  into  private  life  some  little  trait  or  habit 
of  their  professional  career.  The  lawyer  is  apt  to  be  pert, 
interrogative,  and  dictatorial ;  the  doctor  generally  distils  the 
tiresomeness  of  the  patient  in  his  own  conversation ;  the  sol- 
dier is  proverbially  pipeclay ;  and  so  perhaps  we  may  for- 
give our  friend  Cotterell  if  his  voice,  in  speaking,  seemed  to 
emulate  the  proud  notes  of  his  favorite  instrument,  while  his 
utterance  came  in  short,  broken,  abrupt  bursts, — faint,  buf 
faithful,  imitations  of  his  brazen  performances  in  public.  He 
was  naturally  not  given  to  talking,  so  that  it  is  more  than 
probable  the  habit  of  staccato  was  in  itself  a  great  relief  to 
him. 

I  will  not  pretend  to  say  that  Fagan's  patience  was  not 
sorely  tried  as  well  by  the  matter  as  the  manner  of  his 
friend.  His  pursuit  of  politics  was,  indeed,  under  the  great- 
est of  difficulties;  but  he  labored  on,  and,  like  some  patient 
gold-seeker,  was  satisfied  to  wash  the  sand  for  hours,  re- 
warded with  even  a  few  grains  of  the  precious  metal  at  the 
end  of  his  toil. 

"  Help  yourself,  Sam.  That 's  the  poteen,  —  this,  here,  is 
Kinahan,"  said  the  Grinder,  who  well  knew  that  until  the 
finish  of  the  third  tumbler,  Mr.  Cotterell's  oracle  gave 
no  sound.  "Help  yourself,  and  remember  you'll  have  a 
fatiguing  day  to-morrow  !  " 

"A  great  day,  —  say  rather  a  great  day  for  Ireland," 
tolled  out  the  trumpeter. 


A   STATE   TRUMPETER.  75 

"That's  to  be  seen,"  replied  Fagan,  caustically.  "I 
have  witnessed  a  good  many  of  those  great  days  for  Ireland, 
but  I  'd  be  sorely  puzzled  to  say  what  has  come  of  them." 

"  There  are  three  great  days  for  Ireland  every  year. 
There  's  the  opening,  one ;  the  King's,  two ;  St.  Patrick's, 
three  —  " 

"  I  know  all  that,"  muttered  Tony,  discontentedly. 

"  St.  Patrick's,  three ;  and  a  collar  day  !  "  repeated  Sam, 
solemnly. 

"  Collars,  and  curs  to  wear  them,"  growled  out  Tony,  under 
his  breath. 

"Ay,  a  collar  day!  "  and  he  raised  his  eyes  with  a  half 
devotional  expression  at  these  imposing  words. 

"The  Duke  will  open  Parliament  in  person?"  asked 
Fagan,  as  a  kind  of  suggestive  hint,  which  chanced  to  turn 
the  talk. 

"  So  we  mean,  sir,  —  we  have  always  done  so.  Procession 
to  form  in  the  Upper  Castle  Yard  at  twelve ;  battle-axes  in 
full  dress ;  Ulster  in  his  tabard !  " 

"Yes,  yes;  I  have  seen  it  over  and  over  again,"  sighed 
Fagan,  wearily. 

"  Sounds  of  trumpet  in  the  court  —  flourish!  " 

"  Flourish,  indeed!  "  sighed  Tony;  "  it's  the  only  thing 
does  flourish  in  poor  Ireland.  Tell  me,  Sam,  has  the  Court 
been  brilliant  lately?" 

"We  gave  two  dinners  last  week  —  plain  dress — bags 
and  swords  !  " 

"  And  who  were  the  company?  " 

"  Loftus,  Lodge,  and  Morris,  Skefflngton,  Langrishe,  and 
others  —  Boyle  Roche,  the  Usher-in-waiting.  On  Friday, 
we  had  Rowley,  Charlemont  —  " 

"Lord  Charlemont, — did  he  dine  with  the  Viceroy  on 
Friday  last?" 

"Yes,  sir;  and  it  was  the  first  time  we  have  asked  him 
since  the  Mutiny  Bill !  " 

"This  is  indeed  strange,  Sam;  I  scarcely  thought  he  was 
on  such  terms  with  the  Court!" 

"We  forgive  and  forget,  sir, — we  forgive  and  forget," 
said  Sam,  waving  his  hand  with  dignity. 

"  There  was  young  Carew  also." 


76  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

"Walter  Carew,  the  member  for  Wicklow?" 

"  The  same  —  took  in  Lady  Charlotte  Carteret  —  sat  next 
to  her  Grace,  and  spoken  to  frequently  —  French  wife  — 
much  noticed  !  " 

"Is  he  one  of  the  new  converts,  then?"  asked  Fagan, 
slowly  ;  "is  he  about  to  change  the  color  of  his  coat?  " 

"  A  deep  claret,  with  diamond  buttons,  jabot,  and  ruffles, 
Mechlin  lace  —  " 

"  And  the  Duke,  you  say,  spoke  much  with  him?  " 

"  Repeatedly." 

"  They  talked  of  politics? " 

"  We  talked  of  everything." 

"  And  in  terms  of  agreement  too?  " 

"Not  about  artichokes.  Carew  likes  them  in  oil, — we 
always  prefer  butter." 

"That  is  a  most  important  difference  of  opinion,"  said 
Tony,  with  a  sneer. 

"  We  thought  nothing  of  it,"  said  the  other,  with  an  air 
of  dignity  ;  "for  shortly  after,  we  accepted  an  invitation  to 
go  down  to  Castle  Carew  for  a  week." 

"  To  spend  a  week  at  Castle  Carew?" 

"  A  half  state  visit." 

"With  all  the  tagrag  and  bobtail  of  a  Court,  — the  lazy 
drones  of  pageantry,  the  men  of  painted  coats  and  patched 
characters,  the  women  painted  too,  but  beyond  the  art  of 
patching  for  a  reputation." 

"  No,  in  half  state,"  replied  Cotterell,  calmly,  and  not 
either  heeding  or  attending  to  this  passionate  outburst, — 
"two  aides-de-camp;  Mr.  Barrold,  private  secretary;  Sir 
George  Gore ;  and  about  thirty  servants." 

"Thirty  thieves  in  state  livery,  —  thirty  bandits  in  silk 
stockings  and  powder  !  " 

"  We  have  made  mutual  concessions,  and  shall,  I  doubt 
not,  be  good  friends,"  continued  Sam,  only  thinking  of  what 
he  said  himself.  "  Carew  is  to  give  our  state  policy  a  fair 
trial,  and  we  are  to  taste  the  artichokes  with  oil.  His  Grace 
proposed  the  contract,  and  then  proposed  the  visit." 

A  deep  groan  of  angry  indignation  was  all  that  Tony  could 
utter  in  reply.  "And  this  same  visit,"  said  he,  at  last, 
' '  when  is  it  to  take  place  ?  " 


A   STATE   TRUMPETER.  77 

"Next  week;  for  the  present  we  have  much  on  our 
hands.  We  open  Parliament  to-morrow;  Wednesday,  grand 
dinner  to  peers  and  peeresses ;  Thursday,  the  judges  and 
law  officers ;  Friday,  debate  on  the  address  —  small  party 
of  friends;  Saturday  we  go  to  the  play  in  state,  — we  like 
the  play." 

"You  do,  do  you?"  said  the  Grinder,  with  a  grin  of 
malice,  as  some  vindictive  feeling  worked  within  him. 

"We  have  commanded  k  The  Road  to  Ruin,' "  continued 
Cotterell. 

"  Out  of  compliment  to  your  politics,  I  suppose !  " 

"  Holman's  Young  Rapid  always  amused  us  !  " 

"  Carew's  performance  of  the  character  is  better  still,  — it 
is  real;  it  is  palpable."  Then,  suddenly  carried  beyond 
himself  by  a  burst  of  passion,  he  cried:  "Now,  is  it 
possible  that  your  heavy  browed  Duke  fancies  a  country  can 
be  ruled  in  this  wise  ?  Does  he  believe  that  a  little  flattery 
here,  a  little  bribery  there,  some  calumny  to  separate  friends, 
some  gossip  to  sow  dissension  amongst  intimates,  a  promise 
of  place,  a  title  or  a  pension  thrown  to  the  hungry  hounds 
that  yelp,  and  bark,  and  fawn  about  a  Court,  —  that  this 
means  government,  or  that  these  men  are  the  nation  ?  " 

"  You  have  overturned  the  sugar-bowl,"  observed 
Cotterell. 

"  Better  than  to  upset  the  country,"  said  the  other,  with  a 
contemptuous  look  at  his  stolid  companion.  "I  tell  you 
what  it  is,  Cotterell,"  added  he,  gravely,  "  these  English  had 
might  and  power  on  their  side,  and  had  they  rested  their 
strength  on  them,  they  might  defy  us,  for  we  are  the  weaker 
party;  but  they  have  condescended  to  try  other  weapons, 
and  would  encounter  us  with  subtlety,  intrigue,  and  cabal. 
Now,  mark  my  words :  we  may  not  live  to  see  it,  but  the 
time  will  come  when  their  scheme  will  recoil  upon  themselves ; 
for  we  are  their  equals,  —  ay,  more  than  their  equals,  — with 
such  arms  as  these !  Fools  that  they  are,  not  to  see  that  if 
they  destroy  the  influence  of  the  higher  classes,  the  people  will 
elect  leaders  from  their  own  ranks ;  and,  instead  of  having 
to  Bght  Popery  alone,  the  day  is  not  distant  when  they'll 
have  to  combat  democracy  too.  Will  not  the  tune  be  changed 
then  ? " 


78  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

"  It  must  always  be  'God  save  the  King,'  sir,  on  birth- 
days," said  Cotterell,  who  was  satisfied  if  he  either  caught 
or  comprehended  the  last  words  of  any  discourse. 

It  is  difficult  to  say  whether  the  Grinder's  temper  could 
have  much  longer  endured  these  assaults  of  stupidity,  but 
for  the  sudden  appearance  of  Raper,  who,  coming  stealthily 
forward,  whispered  a  few  words  in  Fagan's  ear. 

"  Did  you  say  here?  —  here?  "  asked  Fagan,  eagerly. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Raper  ;   "  below  in  the  office." 

"But  why  there?  Why  not  show  him  upstairs?  No, 
no,  you  're  right,"  added  he,  with  a  most  explanatory  glance 
towards  his  guest.  "I  must  leave  you  for  a  few  minutes, 
Cotterell.  Take  care  of  yourself  till  I  come  back ;  "  and 
with  this  apology  he  arose,  and  followed  Raper  down- 
stairs. 

The  visitor,  who  sat  on  one  of  the  high  office-stools,  dressed 
in  the  first  fashion  of  the  day,  slapped  his  boot  impatiently 
with  his  cane,  and  did  not  even  remove  his  hat  as  Fagan 
entered,  contenting  himself  with  a  slight  touch  of  the  finger 
to  its  leaf  for  salutation. 

"Sorry  to  disturb  you,  Fagan,"  said  he,  half  cavalierly; 
"  but  being  in  town  late  this  evening,  and  knowing  the  value 
of  even  five  minutes'  personal  intercourse,  I  have  dropped  in 
to  say,  —  what  I  have  so  often  said  in  the  same  place,  —  I 
want  money." 

"  Grieved  to  hear  it,  Mr.  Carew,"  was  the  grave,  senten- 
tious reply. 

"  I  don't  believe  you,  Tony.  When  a  man  can  lend,  as 
you  can,  on  his  own  terms,  he  's  never  very  sorry  to  hear  of 
the  occasion  for  his  services." 

"  Cash  is  scarce,  sir." 

"  So  I  have  always  found  it,  Tony;  but,  like  everything 
else,  one  gets  it  by  paying  for.  I  'm  willing  to  do  so,  and 
now,  what 's  the  rate,  —  ten,  fifteen,  or  are  you  Patriarch 
enough  to  need  twenty  per  cent?" 

"I'm  not  sure  that  I  could  oblige  you,  even  on  such 
terms,  Mr.  Carew.  There  is  a  long  outstanding,  unsettled 
account  between  us.  There  is  a  very  considerable  balance 
due  to  me.  There  are,  in  fact,  dealings  between  us  which 
call  for  a  speedy  arrangement." 


A   STATE   TRUMPETER.  79 

"  And  which  are  very  unlikely  to  be  favored  with  it, 
Tony.  Now,  I  have  n't  a  great  deal  of  time  to  throw  away, 
for  I  'm  off  to  the  country  to-night,  so  that  pray  let  us 
understand  each  other  at  once.  I  shall  need,  before  Mon- 
day next,  a  sura  of  not  less  than  eight  thousand  pounds. 
Hacket,  my  man  of  law,  will  show  you  such  securities  as 
I  possess.  Call  on  him,  and  take  your  choice  of  them. 
I  desire  that  our  negotiation  should  be  strictly  a  matter 
between  ourselves,  because  we  live  in  gossiping  times,  and 
I  don't  care  to  amuse  the  town  with  my  private  affairs. 
Are  you  satisfied  with  this?" 

"  Eight  thousand,  in  bills,  of  course,  sir?  " 

"  If  you  wish  it !  " 

"  At  what  dates?  " 

"  The  longer  the  better." 

"  Shall  we  say  in  two  sums  of  four  thousand  each,  —  six 
months  and  nine?  " 

"  With  all  my  heart.     When  can  I  touch  the  coin?  " 

"  Now,  sir;  this  moment  if  you  desire  it." 

"  Write  the  check,  then,  Tony,"  said  he,  hurriedly. 

"There,  sir,  there  are  the  bills  for  your  signature,"  said 
Fagan.  "  Will  you  have  the  goodness  to  give  me  a  line  to 
Hacket  about  the  securities?  " 

"Of  course,"  said  he;  and  he  at  once  wrote  the  note 
required.  "Now  for  another  point,  Tony:  I  am  going  to 
ask  a  favor  of  you.  Are  you  in  a  gracious  mood  this 
evening?" 

The  appeal  was  sudden  enough  to  be  disconcerting,  and 
so  Fagan  felt  it,  for  he  looked  embarrassed  and  confused  in 
no  ordinary  degree. 

"  Come,  I  3ee  I  shall  not  be  refused,"  said  my  father,  who 
at  once  saw  that  the  only  course  was  the  bold  one.  "  It  is 
this :  we  are  expecting  some  friends  to  spend  a  few  days 
with  us  at  Castle  Carew,  a  kind  of  house-warming  to  that 
new  wing ;  we  have  done  our  best  to  gather  around  us 
whatever  our  good  city  boasts  of  agreeability  and  beauty, 
and  with  tolerable  success.  There  is,  I  may  say,  but  one 
wanting  to  make  our  triumph  complete.  With  her  presence 
I  M  wager  a  thousand  guineas  that  no  country  mansion  in 
Great  Britain  could  contest  the  palm  with  us." 


80  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

Fagan  grew  deadly  pale  as  he  listened,  then  flushed 
deeply,  and  a  second  time  a  sickly  hue  crept  over  his  fea- 
tures as,  in  a  voice  barely  above  a  whisper,  he  said,  — 

"  You  mean  my  daughter,  sir?  " 

"  Of  course  I  do,  Tony.  A  man  needn't  read  riddles  to 
know  who  is  the  handsomest  girl  in  Dublin.  I  hope  you  '11 
not  deny  us  the  favor  of  her  company.  My  wife  will  meet 
her  at  Bray  ;  she  '11  come  into  town,  if  you  prefer  it,  and 
take  her  up  here." 

"Oh,  no,  sir;  not  here,"  said  Fagan,  hurriedly,  who, 
whatever  plans  he  might  be  forming  in  his  mind,  quickly 
saw  the  inconvenience  of  such  a  step. 

"  It  shall  be  as  you  please  in  every  respect,  Fagan.  Now, 
on  Tuesday  morning  —  " 

"Not  so  fast,  sir,  —  not  so  fast,"  said  Fagan,  calmly. 
"  You  have  n't  given  me  time  for  much  reflection  now;  and 
the  very  little  thought  I  have  bestowed  on  the  matter  sug- 
gests grave  doubts  to  me.  Nobody  knows  better  than  Mr. 
Carew  that  a  wide  gulf  separates  our  walk  in  life  from  his ; 
that  however  contented  with  our  lot  in  this  world,  it  is  a  very 
humble  one  —  " 

' '  Egad  !  I  like  such  humility.  The  man  who  can  draw  a 
check  for  ten  thousand  at  sight,  and  yet  never  detect  any 
remarkable  alteration  in  his  banker's  book,  ought  to  be 
proud  of  the  philosophy  that  teaches  him  contentment. 
Tony,  my  worthy  friend,  don't  try  to  mystify  me.  You  know, 
and  you  'd  be  a  fool  if  you  did  n't  know,  that  with  your 
wealth  and  your  daughter's  beauty  you  have  only  to  choose 
the  station  she  will  occupy.  There  is  but  one  way  you  can 
possibly  defeat  her  success,  and  that  is  by  estranging  her 
from  the  world,  and  withdrawing  her  from  all  intercourse 
with  society.  I  can't  believe  that  this  is  your  intention ;  I 
can  scarcely  credit  that  it  could  be  her  wish.  Let  us,  then, 
have  the  honor  of  introducing  her  to  that  rank,  the  very 
highest  position  in  which  she  would  grace  and  dignify.  I  ask 
it  as  a  favor,  —  the  very  greatest  you  can  bestow  on  us." 

"No,  sir;  it  cannot  be.  It's  impossible,  utterly  im- 
possible." 

"I  am  really  curious  to  know  upon  what  grounds,  for  I 
confess  they  are  a  secret  to  me !  " 


A   STATE   TRUMPETER.  81 

"  So  they  must  remain,  theu,  sir,  if  you  cauuot  persuade 
me  to  open  more  of  my  heart  than  I  am  in  the  habit  of  doing 
with  comparative  strangers.  I  can  be  very  grateful  for  the 
honor  you  intend  me,  Mr.  Carew ;  but  the  best  way  to  be  so 
is,  probably,  not  to  accompany  that  feeling  with  any  sense 
of  personal  humiliation  !  " 

"  You  are  certainly  not  bent  on  giving  me  any  clew  to 
your  motives,  Fagau." 

"I'm  sorry  for  it,  sir;  but  frankness  to  you  might  be 
great  unfairness  to  myself." 

"  More  riddles,  Tony,  and  I  'm  far  too  dull  to  read  them." 

"Well,  then,  sir,  perhaps  you'd  understand  me  when  I 
say  that  Anthony  Fagah,  low  and  humble  as  he  is,  has  no 
mind  to  expose  his  daughter  to  the  sneers  and  scoffs  of  a 
rank  she  has  no  pretension  to  mix  with ;  that,  miser  as  he  is, 
he  would  n't  bring  a  blush  of  shame  to  her  cheek  for  all  the 
wealth  of  India !  and  that,  rather  than  sit  at  home  here  and 
brood  over  every  insult  that  would  be  offered  to  the  usurer's 
daughter  by  those  beggarly  spendthrifts  that  are  at  liberty 
by  his  bounty,  he'd  earn  his  name  of  the  Grinder  by  crush- 
ing them  to  the  dust !  " 

The  vehemence  of  his  utterance  had  gone  on  increasing  as 
he  spoke,  till  at  the  end  the  last  words  were  given  with 
almost  a  scream  of  passion. 

"I  must  say,  Fagan,"  replied  my  father,  calmly,  "that 
you  form  a  very  humble,  I  trust  a  very  unfair,  estimate  of 
the  habits  of  my  house,  not  to  say  of  my  own  feelings. 
However,  we  '11  not  dispute  the  matter.  Good  evening  to 
you." 

"  Good  evening,  sir ;  I  'm  sorry  I  was  so  warm  ;  I  hope  I 
have  said  nothing  that  could  offend  you." 

"Not  when  you  didn't  mean  offence,  believe  me,  Fagan. 
I  repeat  my  hope  that  the  friends  and  acquaintances  with 
whom  I  live  are  not  the  underbred  and  ill-mannered  class 
you  think  them;  beyond  that  I  have  nothing  to  say.  Good 
evening." 

Probably  no  amount  of  discussion  and  argument  on  the 
Bubjed  could  so  palpably  have  convinced  Fagan  of  the  vast 
superiority  of  a  man  of  good  manners  over  one  of  inferior 
breeding  as  did  the  calm  and  gentleman-like  quietude  of  my 


82  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

father's  bearing,  in  contradistinction  to  his  own  passionate 
outbreak. 

"One  moment,  sir,  —  one  moment,"  cried  he,  laying  his 
hand  on  my  father's  arm;  "you  really  believe  that  one 
humbly  born  as  Polly,  the  daughter  of  a  man  in  my  con- 
dition, would  be  received  amongst  the  high  and  titled  of 
Dublin  without  a  scornful  allusion  to  whence  she  came,  — 
without  a  sneer  at  her  rank  in  life  ?  " 

"If  I  thought  anything  else,  Fagan,  I  should  be  dis- 
honored in  making  this  request  of  you." 

"  She  shall  go,  sir,  —  she  shall  go,"  cried  Fagan. 

"  Thanks  for  the  confidence,  Fagan  ;  I  know  you  'd  rather 
trust  me  with  half  your  fortune  without  a  scratch  of  my  pen 
in  return." 

Fagan.  turned  away  his  head ;  but  a  motion  of  his  hand 
across  his  eyes  showed  how  he  felt  the  speech. 

To  obviate  the  awkwardness  of  the  moment,  my  father 
entered  upon  the  details  of  the  journey,  for  which  it  was 
arranged  that  Fagan  was  to  send  his  daughter  to  Bray,  where 
a  carriage  from  Castle  Carew  would  be  in  waiting  to  convey 
her  the  remainder  of  the  way.  These  points  being  settled, 
my  father  once  again  thanked  him  for  his  compliance,  and 
departed. 

I  should  be  only  mystifying  my  reader  most  unjustifiably 
should  I  affect  any  secrecy  as  to  my  father's  reasons  for  this 
singular  invitation ;  for  although  the  gossipry  of  the  day 
could  adduce  innumerable  plots  and  plans  which  were  to 
spring  out  of  it,  I  sincerely  believe  his  sole  motive  was  the 
pleasure  that  he  and  my  mother  were  sure  to  feel  in  doing  a 
piece  of  graceful  and  generous  politeness.  MacNaghten's 
account  of  Polly  had  strongly  excited  their  curiosity,  not  to 
speak  of  a  more  worthy  feeling,  in  her  behalf ;  and  knowing 
that  Pagan's  immense  wealth  would  one  day  or  other  be  hers, 
they  felt  it  was  but  fair  that  she  should  see,  and  be  seen,  by 
that  world  of  which  she  was  yet  to  be  a  distinguished  orna- 
ment. Beyond  this,  I  implicitly  believe  they  had  no  motive 
nor  plan.  Of  course,  I  do  not  pretend  to  say  that  even 
amongst  his  own  very  guests,  the  men  who  travelled  down  to 
enjoy  his  hospitality,  his  conduct  did  not  come  in  for  its 
share  of  criticism.     Many  an  artful  device  was  attributed  to 


A  STATE  TRUMPETER.  83 

this  seeming  stroke  of  policy,  not  one  of  which,  however,  did 
not  more  redound  to  ruy  father's  craft  than  to  his  character 
for  honorable  dealing.  But  what  would  become  of  "  bad 
tongues  "  in  this  world  if  there  were  not  generous  natures  to 
calumniate  and  vilify  ?  Of  a  verity,  scandal  prefers  a  high 
mark  and  an  unblemished  reputation  for  its  assaults,  far 
better  than  a  damaged  fame  and  a  tattered  character;  it 
seems  more  heroic  to  shy  a  pebble  through  a  pane  of  plate- 
glass  than  to  pitch  a  stone  through  a  cracked  casement ! 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A    GENTLEMAN    USHER. 

Among  the  members  of  the  Viceregal  suite  who  were  to 
accompany  his  Grace  on  a  visit  was  a  certain  Barry 
Rutledge,  a  gentleman  usher,  whose  character  and  doings 
were  well  known  in  the  times  I  speak  of.  When  a  very 
young  man,  Rutledge  had  been  stripped  of  his  entire  patri- 
mony on  the  turf,  and  was  thrown  for  support  upon  the 
kindness  of  those  who  had  known  him  in  better  days. 
Whether  it  was  that  time  had  developed  or  adversity  had 
sharpened  his  wits,  it  is  certain  that  he  showed  himself  to  be 
a  far  shrewder  and  more  intelligent  being  than  the  world  had 
heretofore  deemed  him.  If  he  was  not  gifted  with  any  very 
great  insight  into  politics,  for  which  he  was  free  to  own  he 
had  no  taste,  he  was  well  versed  in  human  nature,  at  least  in 
all  its  least  favorable  aspects,  and  thoroughly  understood 
how  to  detect  and  profit  by  the  weaknesses  of  those  with 
whom  he  came  in  contact. 

His  racing  experiences  had  given  him  all  the  training  and 
teaching  which  he  possessed,  and  to  his  own  fancied  analogy 
between  the  turf  and  the  great  race  of  life  did  he  owe  all 
the  shrewd  inspirations  that  guided  him. 

His  favorite  theory  was,  that  however  well  a  horse  may 
gallop,  there  is  always,  if  one  but  knew  it,  some  kind  of 
ground  that  would  throw  him  "out  of  stride;"  and  so  of 
men :  he  calculated  that  every  one  is  accompanied  by  some 
circumstance  or  other  which  forms  his  stumbling-block 
through  life ;  and  however  it  may  escape  notice,  that  to  its 
existence  will  be  referrible  innumerable  turnings  and  wind- 
ings, whose  seeming  contradictions  excite  surprise  and 
astonishment. 


A   GENTLEMAN   USIIER.  85 

To  learn  all  these  secret  defects,  to  store  his  mind  with 
every  incident  of  family  and  fortune  of  the  chief  actors  of 
the  time,  was  the  mechanism  by  which  he  worked,  and 
certainly  in  such  inquisitorial  pursuits  it  would  have  been 
hard  to  find  his  equal.  By  keenly  watching  the  lines  of 
action  men  pursued,  he  had  taught  himself  to  trace  back  to 
their  motives,  and  by  the  exercise  of  these  faculties  he  had 
at  last  attained  to  a  skill  in  reading  character  that  seemed 
little  short  of  marvellous. 

Nature  had  been  most  favorable  in  fitting  him  for  his 
career,  for  his  features  were  of  that  cast  which  bespeaks  a 
soft,  easy  temperament,  careless  and  unsuspecting.  His 
large  blue  eyes  and  curly  golden  hair  gave  him,  even  at  thirty, 
a  boyish  look,  and  both  in  voice  and  manner  was  he  singu- 
larly youthful,  while  his  laugh  was  like  the  joyous  outburst 
of  a  happy  schoolboy. 

None  could  have  ever  suspected  that  such  a  figure  as  this, 
arrayed  in  the  trappings  of  a  courtly  usher,  could  have  in- 
closed within  it  a  whole  network  of  secret  intrigue  and  plot. 
My  mother  had  the  misfortune  to  make  a  still  more  fatal 
blunder;  for,  seeing  him  in  what  she  pardonably  enough 
believed  to  be  a  livery,  she  took  him  to  be  a  menial,  and 
actually  despatched  him  to  her  carriage  to  fetch  her  fan ! 
The  incident  got  abroad,  and  Rutledge,  of  course,  was  well 
laughed  at ;  but  he  seemed  to  enjoy  the  mirth  so  thoroughly, 
and  told  the  story  so  well  himself,  that  it  could  never  be 
imagined  he  felt  the  slightest  annoyance  on  the  subject.  By 
all  accounts,  however,  the  great  weakness  of  his  character 
was  the  belief  that  he  was  decidedly  noble-looking  and  high- 
bred ;  that  place  him  where  you  would,  costume  him  how 
you  might,  surround  him  with  all  that  might  disparage  pre- 
tension, yet  that  such  was  the  innate  gentlemanhood  of  his 
nature,  the  least  critical  of  observers  would  not  fail  to 
acknowledge  him.  To  say  that  he  concealed  this  weakness 
most  completely,  that  he  shrouded  it  in  the  very  depth  of 
his  heart,  is  only  to  repeat  what  I  have  already  mentioned  as 
to  his  character;  for  he  was  watchful  over  every  trifle  that 
should  betray  a  knowledge  of  his  nature,  and  sensitively  alive 
to  the  terrors  of  ridicule.  From  that  hour  forward  he  became 
my  mother's  enemy,  —  not,  as  many  others  might,  by  decry- 


86  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

ing  her  pretensions  to  beauty,  or  by  any  depreciatory  re- 
marks on  her  dress  or  manner,  but  in  a  far  deeper  sense,  and 
with  more  malignant  determination. 

To  learn  who  she  was,  of  what  family,  what  were  her  con- 
nections, their  rank,  name,  and  station,  were  his  first  objects  ; 
and  although  the  difficulties  of  the  inquiry  were  considerable, 
his  sources  of  knowledge  were  sufficient  to  overcome  them. 
He  got  to  hear  something  at  least  of  her  history,  and  to  trace 
back  her  mysterious  journey  to  an  ancient  chateau  belonging 
to  the  Crown  of  France.  Beyond  this,  in  all  likelihood,  he 
could  not  go ;  but  even  here  were  materials  enough  for  his 
subtlety  to  make  use  of. 

The  Viceregal  visit  to  Castle  Carew  had  been  all  planned 
by  him.  He  had  persuaded  the  Duke  that  the  time  was  come 
when,  by  a  little  timely  flattering,  the  whole  landed  gentry 
of  Ireland  were  in  his  hands.  The  conciliating  tone  of  the 
speech  which  opened  Parliament,  the  affectedly  generous 
confidence  of  England  in  all  the  acts  of  the  Irish  Legislature, 
had  already  succeeded  to  a  miracle.  Grattan  himself  moved 
the  address  in  terms  of  unbounded  reliance  on  the  good  faith 
of  Government.  Flood  followed  in  the  same  strain,  and 
others,  of  lesser  note,  were  ashamed  to  utter  a  sentiment  of 
distrust,  in  the  presence  of  such  splendid  instances  of  con- 
fiding generosity.  My  father,  although  not  a  leading  orator 
of  the  House,  was,  from  connection  and  fortune,  possessed 
of  much  influence,  and  well  worth  the  trouble  of  gaining  over, 
and,  as  Rutledge  said,  "  It  was  pleasant  to  have  to  deal  with 
a  man  who  wanted  neither  place,  money,  nor  the  peerage, 
but  whose  alliance  could  be  ratified  at  his  own  table,  and 
pledged  in  his  own  Burgundy." 

Every  one  knows  what  happens  in  the  East  when  a  great 
sovereign  makes  a  present  of  an  elephant  to  some  inferior 
chief.  The  morale  of  a  Viceregal  visit  is  pretty  much  in  the 
same  category.  It  is  an  honor  that  cannot  be  declined,  and 
it  is  generally  sure  to  ruin  the  entertainer.  Of  course  I  do 
not  talk  of  the  present  times  nor  of  late  years.  Lord-Lieu- 
tenants have  grown  to  be  less  stately ;  the  hosts  have  become 
less  splendid.  But  in  the  days  I  speak  of  here,  there  were 
great  names  and  great  fortunes  in  the  land.  The  influence 
of   the  country  neither   flowed  from  Roman  rescripts  nor 


A   GENTLEMAN   USHER.  87 

priestly  denunciations.  The  Lions  of  Judah  and  the  Doves 
of  Elphin  were  as  yet  unknown  to  our  political  zoology  ;  and. 
with  all  their  faults  and  shortcomings,  we  had  at  least  a 
national  gentry  party,  high-spirited,  hospitable,  and  gen- 
erous, and  whose  misfortunes  were  probably  owing  to  the 
fact  that  they  gave  a  too  implicit  faith  to  the  adaptiveness 
of  English  laws  to  a  people  who  have  not,  in  their  habits, 
natures,  or  feelings,  the  slightest  analogy  to  Englishmen  ! 
and  that,  when  at  length  they  began  to  perceive  the  error,  it 
was  already  too  late  to  repair  it. 

The  Viceroy's  arrival  at  Castle  Carew  was  fixed  for  a 
Tuesday,  and  on  Monday  evening  Mr.  Barry  Rutledge  drove 
up  to  the  door  just  as  my  father  and  mother,  with  Dan  Mac- 
Naghten,  were  issuing  forth  for  a  walk.  He  had  brought 
with  him  a  list  of  those  for  whom  accommodation  should  be 
provided,  and  the  number  considerably  exceeded  all  expecta- 
tion. Nor  was  this  the  only  disconcerting  event,  for  my 
father  now  learned,  for  the  first  time,  that  he  should  have 
taken  his  Grace's  pleasure  with  regard  to  each  of  the  other 
guests  he  had  invited  to  meet  him,  —  a  piece  of  etiquette  he 
had  never  so  much  as  thought  of.  "Of  course  it's  not 
much  matter,"  said  Rutledge,  laughing  easily;  "your 
acquaintances  are  all  known  to  his  Grace." 

"  I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,"  interposed  my  father,  quickly; 
for  he  suddenly  remembered  that  Polly  Fagan  was  not  likely 
to  have  been  presented  at  Court,  nor  was  she  one  to  expect 
to  escape  notice. 

' '  He  never  thinks  of  politics  in  private  life ;  he  has  not 
the  smallest  objection  to  meet  every  shade  of  politician." 

"  I  'm  quite  sure  of  that,"  said  my  father,  musing,  but  by 
no  means  satisfied  with  the  prospect  before  him. 

"  Tell  Rutledge  whom  you  expect,"  broke  in  Dan,  "  and 
he  '11  be  able  to  guide  you,  should  there  be  any  difficulty 
about  them." 

' '  Ma  f oi !  "  broke  in  my  mother,  half  impatiently,  in  her 
imperfect  language.  "  If  dey  are  of  la  bonne  societe,  what 
will  you  have  more?" 

"  Of  course,"  assented  Rutledge.  "  The  names  we  are  all 
familiar  with, — the  good  houses  of  the  country."  Care- 
lessly as  he  spoke,  he   contrived   to   dart   a   quick    glance 


88  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

towards  my  mother ;  but,  to  his  astonishment,  she  showed  no 
sign  of  discomfort  or  uneasiness. 

"  Egad  !  I  think  it  somewhat  hard  that  a  man's  company 
should  not  be  of  his  own  choosing !  "  said  MacNaghten, 
half  angrily.  "  Do  you  think  his  Grace  would  order  the 
dinner  away  if  there  happened  to  be  a  dish  at  table  he 
did  n't  like  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly,  if  he  were  not  compelled  to  eat  of  it,"  said 
Rutledge,  good-humoredly ;  "but  I'm  sure,  all  this  time, 
that  we  're  only  amusing  ourselves  fighting  shadows.  Just 
tell  me  who  are  coming,  and  I  '11  be  able  to  give  you  a  hint 
if  any  of  them  should  be  personally  displeasing  to  his 
Grace." 

"You  remember  them  all,  Dan,"  said  my  father;  "try 
and  repeat  the  names." 

"Shall  we  keep  the  lump  of  sugar  for  the  last,"  said 
Dan,  "  as  they  do  with  children  when  they  give  them 
medicine?  or  shall  we  begin  with  your  own  friends,  Rut- 
ledge?  for  we've  got  Archdall,  and  Billy  Burton,  and 
Freke,  and  Barty  Hoare,  and  some  others  of  the  same 
stamp,  —  fellows  that  I  call  very  bad  company,  but  that 
I'm  well  aware  you  Castle  folk  expect  to  see  everywhere 
you  go !  " 

"But  you've  done  things  admirably,"  cried  Rutledge. 
"  These  are  exactly  the  men  for  us.    Have  you  Townsend? " 

"Ay,  and  his  flapper,  Tisdall ;  for  without  Joe  he  never 
remembers  what  story  to  tell  next.  And  then  there 's  Jack 
Preston  !  Egad  !  you  '11  fancy  yourselves  on  the  Treasury 
benches." 

"  Well,  now  for  the  Opposition,"  said  Rutledge,  gayly. 

"To  begin:  Grattan  can't  come,  —  a  sick  child,  the 
measles,  or  something  or  other  wrong  in  the  nursery,  which 
he  thinks  of  more  consequence  than  '  all  your  houses ;  ' 
Ponsonby  won't  come,  —  he  votes  you  all  very  dull  com- 
pany; Hugh  O'Donnell  is  of  the  same  mind,  and  adds  that 
he  'd  rather  see  Tom  Thumb,  in  Fishamble  Street,  than  all 
your  court  tomfooleries  twice  over.  But  then  we  've  old 
Bob  Ff  rench,  —  Bitter  Bob ;  Joe  Curtis  —  " 

"  Not  the  same  Curtis  that  refused  his  Grace  leave  to 
shoot  over  his  bog  at  Ballyvane  ?  " 


A   GENTLEMAN  USHER.  89 

"  The  very  man,  and  just  as  likely  to  send  another  refusal 
if  the  request  be  repeated." 

"I  didn't  know  of  this,  Dan,"  interposed  my  father. 
"  This  is  really  awkward." 

"Perhaps  it  was  a  little  untoward,"  replied  MacNaghten, 
"but  there  was  no  help  for  it.  Joe  asked  himself;  and 
when  I  wrote  to  say  that  the  Duke  was  coming,  he  replied 
that  he  'd  certainly  not  fail  to  be  here,  for  he  did  n't  think 
there  was  another  house  in  the  kingdom  likely  to  harbor 
them  both  at  the  same  time." 

"  He  was  right  there,"  said  Rutledge,  gravely. 

"  He  generally  is  right,"  replied  MacNaghten,  with  a  dry 
nod.  "Stephen  Blake,  too,  isn't  unlikely  to  come  over, 
particularly  if  he  finds  out  that  we  've  little  room  to  spare, 
and  that  he'll  put  us  all  to  inconvenience." 

"Oh,  we'll  have  room  enough  for  every  one,"  cried  my 
father. 

"I  do  hope,  at  least,  none  will  go  away  for  want  of  — 
how  you  say,  place?"  said  my  mother. 

"  That 's  exactly  the  right  word  for  it,"  cried  MacNaghten, 
slyly.  "  'Tis  looking  for  places  the  half  of  them  are.  I've 
said  nothing  of  the  ladies,  Rutledge;  for  of  course  your 
courtly  habits  see  no  party  distinctions  amongst  the  fair 
sex.  We'll  astonish  your  English  notions,  I  fancy,  with 
such  a  display  of  Irish  beauty  as  you  've  no  idea  of." 

"That  we  can  appreciate  without  the  slightest  disparage- 
ment on  the  score  of  politics." 

"Need  you  tell  him  of  Polly?"  whispered  my  father  in 
Dan's  ear. 

"  No  ;  it 's  just  as  well  not." 

"I'd  tell  him,  Dan;  the  thing  is  done,  and  cannot  be 
undone,"  continued  he,  in  the  same  undertone. 

"  As  you  please." 

"  We  mean  to  show  you  such  a  girl,  Rutledge,  as  probably 
not  St.  James's  itself  could  match.  When  I  tell  you  she  '11 
have  not  very  far  from  half  a  million  sterling,  I  think  it's 
not  too  much  to  say  that  your  English  Court  has  n't  such  a 
prize  in  the  wheel." 

"  It's  Westrop's  daughter  you  mean?" 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,  man.     Dorothy  won't  have  fifty  thou- 


90  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

saud.  I  doubt  greatly  if  she  '11  have  thirty ;  and  as  to  look, 
style,  and  figure,  she's  uot  to  compare  with  the  girl  I 
mean." 

"The  Lady  Lucy  Lighton?  and  she  is  very  beautiful, 
I  confess." 

"  Lucy  Lighton  !  Why,  what  are  you  thinking  of?  "Where 
would  she  get  the  fortune  I  am  speaking  of  ?  But  you  'd 
never  guess  the  name  ;  you  never  saw  her,  —  perhaps  never 
so  much  as  heard  of  her.     She  is  a  Miss  Fagan." 

"  Polly  —  Polly  Fagan,  the  Grinder's  daughter?  " 

"So,  then,  you  have  heard  of  her?"  said  Dan,  not  a 
little  disconcerted  by  this  burst  of  intelligence. 

"Heard  of  her!  Nay,  more,  I've  seen  and  spoken  with 
her.  I  once  made  a  descent  on  the  old  father,  in  the  hope 
of  doing  something  with  him ;  and  being  accidentally,  I 
believe  it  was,  shown  upstairs,  I  made  Miss  Polly's  acquain- 
tance, but  with  just  as  little  profit." 

"You'll  have  more  time  to  improve  the  intimacy  here, 
Rutledge,"  said  my  father,  laughingly,  "if  MacNaghten  be 
not  a  rival  '  near  the   throne.' " 

"  I '11  not  interfere  with  you,  Barry,"  cried  MacNaghten, 
carelessly. 

Rutledge  gave  one  of  his  usual  unmeaning  laughs,  and 
said,  "After  all,  if  we  except  Ffrench  and  Curtis,  there's 
nothing  to  be  afraid  of;  and  I  suppose  there  will  be  no 
difficulty  in  keeping  them  at  a  safe  distance." 

' '  Bob  Ffrench  cares  much  more  for  Carew's  Burgundy 
than  for  his  grand  acquaintances,"  interposed  MacNaghten  ; 
"  and  as  for  Curtis,  he  only  comes  out  of  curiosity.  Once 
satisfied  that  all  will  go  on  in  the  routine  fashion  of  every 
other  country  visit,  he  '11  jog  home  again,  sorely  discon- 
tented with  himself  for  the  trouble  he  has  taken  to  come 
here." 

"  I  need  scarcely  tell  you,"  said  Rutledge,  taking 
my  father's  arm,  and  leading  him  to  one  side,  —  "I  need 
scarcely  tell  you  that  we  'd  better  avoid  all  discussion  about 
politics  and  party.  You  yourself  are  very  unlikely  to  com- 
mit any  error  in  tact,  but  of  course  you  cannot  answer  for 
others.  Would  it  not,  then,  be  as  well  to  give  some  kind 
of  hint?" 


A   GENTLEMAN   USHER.  91 

"  Faith,"  broke  in  my  father,  hastily,  "  I  will  never  attempt 
to  curb  the  liberty  of  speech  of  any  one  who  does  me  the 
honor  to  be  my  guest ;  and  I  am  sure  I  have  not  a  friend  in 
the  world  who  would  tamely  submit  to  such  dictation." 

"Perhaps  you  are  right.  Indeed,  I'm  sure  you  are," 
broke  in  Rutledge,  and  hastened  his  step  till  he  joined  the 
others. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE    COMPANY   AT   CASTLE    CAREW. 

From  an  early  hour  on  the  following  morning,  the  company 
began  to  pour  in  to  Castle  Carew,  their  style  and  retinue 
being  as  varied  as  may  well  be  imagined,  —  some  arriving  in 
all  the  pomp  and  splendor  of  handsomely  appointed  equipage ; 
some  clashing  up  with  splashed  and  panting  posters ;  and 
others  jogging  lazily  along  the  avenue  in  some  old  "  conven- 
iency  "  of  a  past  age,  drawn  by  animals  far  more  habituated 
to  the  plough  than  the  phaeton.  Amongst  those  first  was 
conspicuous  the  singular  old  noddy,  as  it  was  called,  in 
which  Ffrench  and  Curtis  travelled ;  the  driver  being  peril- 
ously elevated  some  dozen  feet  above  the  earth,  and  perched 
on  a  bar  which  it  required  almost  a  rope-dancer's  dexterity 
to  occupy.  This  primitive  conveyance,  as  it  trundled  along 
before  the  windows,  drew  many  to  gaze  and  jest  upon  its 
curious  appearance,  —  a  degree  of  notice  which  seemed  to 
have  very  opposite  effects  on  the  two  individuals  exposed  to 
it;  for  while  Ffrench  nodded,  kissed  hands,  and  smiled 
good-humoredly  to  his  friends,  Curtis  sat  back  with  his  arms 
folded,  and  his  hat  slouched  over  his  eyes,  as  if  endeavoring 
to  escape  recognition. 

"Confound  the  rascal!"  muttered  he  between  his  teeth. 
"  Could  n't  he  have  managed  to  creep  round  by  some  back 
way?  His  blasted  jingling  old  rat-trap  has  called  the  whole 
household  to  look  at  us !  —  and,  may  I  never,  if  he  has  n't 
broken  something  !  What 's  the  matter,  —  what  are  you  get- 
ing  down  for?  " 

"  'T  is  the  mare  's  got  the  reins  under  her  tail,  yer  honer  !  " 
said  the  driver,  as  he  descended  some  half-dozen  feet  to  en- 
able him  to  get  near  enough  to  rectify  the  entanglement. 
The  process  was   made   more   difficult   by  the   complicated 


THE  COMPANY  AT  CASTLE   CAREW.  93 

machinery  of  springs,  straps,  bars,  and  bolts  which  sup- 
ported the  box,  and  in  the  midst  of  which  the  poor  fellow  sat 
as  in  a  cage.  He  was,  however,  proceeding  in  a  very  busi- 
ness-like way  to  tug  at  the  tail  with  one  hand,  and  pull  out 
the  reins  with  the  other,  when,  suddenly,  far  behind,  there 
came  the  tearing  tramp  of  horses  advancing  at  speed,  the 
cracking  of  the  postilions'  whips  adding  to  the  clamor.  The 
horses  of  the  noddy,  feeling  no  restraint  from  the  reins,  and 
terrified  by  the  uproar,  kicked  up  their  heels  at  once,  and 
bolted  away,  shooting  the  driver  out  of  his  den  into  a  flower- 
pot. Away  dashed  the  affrighted  beasts,  the  crazy  old  con- 
veyance rattling  and  shaking  behind  them  with  a  deafening 
uproar.  Immediately  beyond  the  hall-door,  the  avenue  took 
a  sweep  round  a  copse,  and  by  a  gentle  descent  wound  its 
course  towards  the  stables,  a  considerable  expanse  of  orna- 
mental water  bordering  the  road  on  the  other  side.  Down 
the  slope  they  now  rushed  madly ;  and,  unable  from  their 
speed  to  accomplish  the  turn  in  safety,  they  made  a  sudden 
"  jib"  at  the  water's  edge,  which  upset  the  noddy,  pitching 
its  two  occupants  over  head  and  heels  into  the  lake.  By 
good  fortune  it  was  not  more  than  four  or  five  feet  deep  in 
this  part,  so  that  they  came  off  with  no  other  injury  than  a 
thorough  drenching,  and  the  ridicule  which  met  them  in  the 
laughter  of  some  fifty  spectators.  As  for  Ffrench,  he  had 
to  sit  down  on  the  bank  and  laugh  till  the  very  tears  came ; 
the  efforts  of  Curtis  to  rid  himself  of  tangled  dead  weed  and 
straggling  aquatic  plants  having  driven  that  choleric  subject 
almost  out  of  his  wits. 

"This  may  be  an  excellent  joke,  —  I've  no  doubt  it  is, 
since  you  seem  to  think  so ;  but,  by  Heaven,  sir,  I  '11  try  if 
I  cannot  make  some  one  responsible  for  it!  Yes,  gentle- 
men," added  he,  shaking  his  fist  at  the  crowded  windows, 
"it's  not  all  over  yet;  we'll  see  who  laughs  last!" 

"Faith,  we're  well  off,  to  escape,  with  a  little  fright,  and 
some  frog-spawn,"  said  Bob;   "  it  might  have  been  worse!  " 

"  It  shall  be  worse,  sir,  far  worse,  depend  upon  it!  "  said 
the  other. 

By  this  time  my  father  had  come  up  to  the  spot,  and 
endeavored,  as  well  as  the  absurdity  of  the  scene  would  per- 
mit him,  to  condole  with  the  angry  sufferer.     It  was  not, 


04  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

however,  without  the  greatest  difficulty  that  Curtis  could  be 
prevailed  upon  to  enter  the  house.  The  very  idea  of  being  a 
laughing-stock  was  madness  to  him ;  and  it  was  only  on  the 
strict  assurance  that  no  allusion  to  the  event  would  be  toler- 
ated by  my  father  that  he  at  last  gave  in  and  accompanied 
him. 

Insignificant  as  was  this  incident  in  itself,  it  was  the  origin 
of  very  grave  consequences.  Curtis  was  one  of  those  men 
who  are  unforgiving  to  anything  like  ridicule ;  and  the  sense 
of  injury,  added  to  the  poignant  suffering  of  a  ruined  estate 
and  a  fallen  condition,  by  no  means  improved  a  temper  iras- 
cible beyond  everything.  He  entered  the  house  swearing 
every  species  of  vengeance  on  the  innocent  cause  of  his 
misadventure. 

"  Time  was,  sir,  when  a  lord-lieutenant  drove  to  a  gentle- 
man's door  in  a  style  becoming  his  dignity,  and  not  heralded 
by  half-a-dozen  rascals,  whip-cracking  and  caracolling  like 
the  clowns  in  a  circus !  " 

Such  was  his  angry  commentary  as  he  pushed  past  my 
father  and  hastened  to  his  room.  Long  after,  he  sat  brood- 
ing and  mourning  over  his  calamity.  It  was  forgotten  in 
the  drawing-room,  where  Polly  had  now  arrived,  dividing 
attention  and  interest  with  the  Viceroy  himself.  Indeed, 
while  his  Grace  was  surrounded  with  courtly  and  grave  fig- 
ures, discussing  the  news  of  the  day  and  the  passing  topics, 
Polly  was  the  centre  of  a  far  more  animated  group,  whose 
laughter  and  raillery  rung  through  the  apartment. 

My  mother  was  charmed  with  her,  not  only  because  she 
possessed  considerable  personal  charms,  but,  being  of  her 
own  age,  and  speaking  French  with  ease  and  fluency,  it  was 
a  great  happiness  to  her  to  unbend  once  again  in  all  the  free- 
dom of  her  own  delightful  language.  It  was  to  no  purpose 
that  my  father  whispered  to  her  the  names  and  titles  of 
various  guests  to  whom  peculiar  honor  was  due ;  it  was  in 
vain  that  he  led  her  to  the  seat  beside  some  tiresome  old 
lady,  all  dulness  and  diamonds ;  by  some  magical  attraction 
she  would  find  herself  leaning  over  Polly's  chair,  and  listen- 
ing to  her,  as  she  talked,  in  admiring  ecstasy.  It  was  un- 
questionably true  that  although  most  of  the  company  were 
selected  less  for  personal  qualities  than  their  political  infiu- 


THE   COMPANY   AT  CASTLE   CAREW.  95 

ence,  there  were  many  most  agreeable  persons  in  the  number. 
My  mother,  however,  was  already  fascinated,  and  she  re- 
quired more  self-restraint  than  she  usually  imposed  upon 
herself  to  forego  a  pleasure  which  she  saw  no  reason  for 
relinquishing. 

My  father  exerted  himself  to  the  uttermost.  Few  men,  I 
believe,  performed  the  host  more  gracefully ;  but  nothing 
more  fatally  mars  the  ease  and  destroys  the  charm  of  that 
character  than  anything  like  over-effort  at  success.  His 
attentions  were  too  marked  and  too  harried ;  he  had  exag- 
gerated to  himself  the  difficulties  of  his  situation,  and  he 
increased  them  tenfold  by  his  own  terrors. 

The  Duke  was  one  of  those  plain,  quiet,  well-bred  persons 
so  frequently  met  with  in  the  upper  classes  of  England,  and 
whose  strongest  characteristic  is,  probably,  the  excessive 
simplicity  of  their  manners,  and  the  total  absence  of  every- 
thing bordering  on  pretension.  This  very  quietude,  however, 
is  frequently  misinterpreted,  and,  in  Ireland  especially,  often 
taken  for  the  very  excess  of  pride  and  haughtiness.  Such 
did  it  seem  on  the  present  occasion ;  for  now  that  the  re- 
straint of  a  great  position  was  removed,  and  that  he  suffered 
himself  to  unbend  from  the  cumbrous  requirements  of  a  state 
existence,  the  ease  of  his  deportment  was  suspected  to  be 
indifference,  and  the  absence  of  all  effort  was  deemed  a  con- 
temptuous disregard  for  the  company. 

The  moment,  too,  was  not  happily  chosen  to  bring  men  of 
extreme  and  opposite  opinions  into  contact.  They  met  with 
coldness  and  distrust ;  they  were  even  suspectful  of  the 
motives  which  had  led  to  their  meeting,  —  in  fact,  a  party 
wlio.se  elements  were  less  suited  to  each  other  rarely  assem- 
bled in  an  Irish  country-house;  and  by  ill  luck  the  weather 
look  one  of  those  wintry  turns  which  are  not  unfrequent  in 
our  so-called  summers,  and  set  in  to  rain  with  that  deter- 
mined perseverance  so  common  to  a  July  in  Ireland. 

Nearly  all  the  resources  by  which  the  company  were  to 
have  been  amused  were  of  an  outdoor  kind,  and  depended 
greatly  on  weather.  The  shooting,  the  driving,  the  picnic- 
ing,  the  visits  to  remarkable  scenes  in  the  neighborhood, 
which  Dan  MacNaghten  had  "  programmed  "  with  such  care 
and  zeal,  must  now  be  abandoned,  and  supplied  by  occu- 
pation beneath  the  roof. 


96  SIR   JASPER   CAREW. 

Oh,  good  reader,  has  it  ever  been  your  lot  to  have  your 
house  tilled  with  a  large  and  incongruous  party,  weather- 
bound and  "  bored  "?  To  see  them  stealing  stealthily  about 
corridors,  aud  peeping  into  rooms,  as  if  fearful  of  chancing 
on  something  more  tiresome  than  themselves?  To  watch 
their  sileut  contemplation  of  the  weather-glass,  or  their 
mournful  gaze  at  the  lowering  and  leaden  sky?  To  hear  the 
lazy,  drowsy  tone  of  the  talk,  broken  by  many  a  half-sup- 
pressed yawn  ?  To  know  and  to  feel  that  they  regard  them- 
selves as  your  prisoners,  and  you  as  their  jailer?  —  that 
your  very  butler  is  in  then  eyes  but  an  upper  turnkey? 
Have  you  witnessed  the  utter  failure  of  all  efforts  to  amuse 
them  ?  —  have  you  overheard  the  criticism  that  pronounced 
your  piano  out  of  tune,  your  billiard-table  out  of  level,  your 
claret  out  of  condition  ?  Have  you  caught  mysterious  whis- 
perings of  conspiracies  to  get  away?  and  heard  the  word 
"post-horses"  uttered  with  an  accent  of  joyful  enthusiasm? 
Have  you  watched  the  growing  antipathies  of  those  that,  in 
your  secret  planuings,  you  had  destined  to  become  sworn 
friends?  Have  you  grieved  over  the  disappointment  which 
37our  peculiar  favorites  have  been  doomed  to  experience? 
Have  you  silently  contemplated  all  the  wrong  combinations 
and  unhappy  conjunctures  that  have  grown  up,  when  you 
expected  but  unanimity  and  good  feeling?  Have  you  known 
all  these  things?  and  have  you  passed  through  the  terrible 
ordeal  of  endeavoring  to  amuse  the  dissatisfied,  to  reconcile 
the  incompatible,  and  to  occupy  the  indolent?  Without  some 
such  melancholy  experience,  you  can  scarcely  imagine  all 
that  my  poor  father  had  to  suffer. 

Never  was  there  such  discontent  as  that  household  exhib- 
ited. The  Viceregal  party  saw  few  of  the  non-adherents, 
and  perceived  that  they  made  no  converts  amongst  the 
enemy.  The  Liberals  were  annoyed  at  the  restraint  imposed 
on  them  by  the  presence  of  the  Government  people ;  the 
ladies  were  outraged  at  the  distinguished  notice  conferred  by 
their  hostess  on  one  who  was  not  their  equal  in  social  posi- 
tion, and  whom  they  saw  for  the  first  time  admitted  into  the 
"set."  In  fact,  instead  of  a  large  party  met  together  to 
please  and  be  pleased,  the  society  was  broken  up  into  small 
coteries  and  knots,  all  busily  criticising  and  condemning 
their   neighbors,   and   only  interrupting   their   censures   by 


THE   COMPANY  AT  CASTLE  CAREW.  97 

grievous  complaints  of  the  ill-fortune  that  had  induced  them 
to  come  there. 

It  was  now  the  third  morning  of  the  Duke's  visit,  and  the 
weather  showed  no  symptoms  of  improvement.  The  dark 
sky  was  relieved  towards  the  horizon  by  that  line  of  treacher- 
ous light  which  to  all  accustomed  to  an  Irish  climate  is  the 
signal  for  continued  rain.  The  most  intrepid  votary  of  out- 
door amusements  had  given  up  the  cause  in  despair,  and,  as 
though  dreading  to  augment  the  common  burden  of  dulness 
by  meeting  most  of  the  guests,  preferred  keeping  their 
rooms,  and  confining  to  themselves  the  gloom  that  oppressed 
them. 

The  small  drawing-room  that  adjoined  my  mother's  dress- 
ing-room was  the  only  exception  to  this  almost  prison 
discipline ;  and  there  she  now  sat  with  Polly,  MacNaghten, 
Rutledge,  and  one  or  two  more,  the  privileged  visitors  of 
that  favored  spot,  —  my  mother  at  her  embroidery-frame, 
that  pleasant,  mock  occupation  which  serves  so  admirably 
as  an  aid  to  talking  or  to  listening,  which  every  French- 
woman knows  so  well  how  to  employ  as  a  conversational 
fly-wheel.  They  assuredly  gave  no  evidence  in  their  tone 
of  that  depression  which  the  gloomy  weather  had  thrown 
over  the  other  guests.  Laughter  and  merriment  abounded ; 
and  a  group  more  amusing  and  amused  it  would  have  been 
difficult  to  imagine.  Rutledge,  perhaps,  turned  his  eyes 
towards  the  door  occasionally,  with  the  air  of  one  in  ex- 
pectation of  something  or  somebody ;  but  none  noticed  this 
anxiety,  nor,  indeed,  was  he  one  to  permit  his  thoughts  to 
B\vay  his  outward  actions. 

"The  poor  Duke,"  cried  MacNaghten,  "he  can  bear  it 
no  longer.  See,  there  he  goes,  in  defiance  of  rain  and  wind, 
to  take  his  walk  in  the  shrubbery  !  " 

"  And  mon  pauvre  mari  —  go  with  him,"  said  my  mother, 
in  a  tone  of  lamentation  that  made  all  the  hearers  burst  out 
a-laughing.  "  Ah,  I  know  why  you  Irish  are  all  so  domes- 
tic," added  she,  —  "  c'est  le  climat!  " 

"Will  you  allow  us  nothing  to  the  credit  of  our  fidelity. 
—  to  our  attachments,  madame?"  said  Rutledge,  who,  while 
he  continued  to  talk,  never  took  his  eyes  off  the  two  figures, 
who  now  walked  side  by  side  in  the  shrubbery. 


98  SIR   JASPER   CAREW. 

"  It  is  a  capricious  kind  of  thing,  after  all,  is  your  Irish 
fidelity,"  said  Polly.  "  Your  love  is  generally  but  another 
form  of  self-esteem ;  you  marry  a  woman  because  you  can 
be  proud  of  her  beauty,  her  wit,  her  manners,  and  her  ac- 
complishments, and  you  are  faithful  because  you  never  get 
tired  in  the  indulgence  of  your  own  vanity." 

' '  How  kind  of  you  is  it,  then,  to  let  us  never  want  for  the 
occasion  of  indulging  it,"  said  Rutledge,  half  slyly. 

"I  don't  quite  agree  with  you,  Miss  Polly,"  said  Mac- 
Naghten,  after  a  pause,  in  which  he  seemed  to  be  reflecting 
over  her  words  ;  "I  think  most  men  —  Irishmen,  I  mean  — 
marry  to  please  themselves.  They  may  make  mistakes,  of 
course,  —  I  don't  pretend  to  say  that  they  always  choose  well ; 
but  it  is  right  to  bear  in  mind  that  they  are  not  free  agents, 
and  cannot  have  whom  they  please  to  wife." 

"  It  is  better  with  us,"  broke  in  my  mother.  "  You  marry 
one  you  have  never  seen  before ;  you  have  nothing  of  how 
you  call  '  exultation,'  point  des  id6es  romantiques ;  you  are 
delighted  with  all  the  little  '  soins '  and  attentions  of  your 
husband,  who  has,  at  least,  one  inestimable  merit, — he  is 
never  familiar." 

"  How  charming!  "  said  Rutledge,  with  mock  seriousness. 

"  Is  it  not?  "  continued  she,  not  detecting  the  covert  irony 
of  his  tone  ;   "  it  is  your  intimite,  —  how  you  call  it?  " 

"  Intimacy." 

"  Oui,"  said  she,  smiling,  but  not  trusting  herself  to  repeat 
the  word.     "  C'est  cela,  — that  destroys  your  happiness." 

"  Egad  !  I  'd  as  soon  be  a  bachelor,"  broke  in  MacNaghten, 
"  if  I  only  were  to  look  at  my  wife  with  an  opera-glass 
across  the  theatre,  or  be  permitted  to  kiss  her  kid  glove  on 
her  birthday." 

' '  What  he  say,  —  why  you  laugh  ?  "  cried  my  mother,  who 
could  not  follow  the  rapidity  of  his  utterance. 

"Mr.  MacNaghten  prefers  homeliness  to  refinement,"  said 
Polly. 

"Oui,  you  are  right,  my  dear,"  added  my  mother;  "it 
is  more  refined.  And  then,  instead  of  all  that  '  tracasserie ' 
you  have  about  your  house,  and  your  servants,  and  the 
thousand  little  '  inconvenance  de  menage,'  you  have  one 
whom   you  consult  on  your   toilette,  your   equipage,  your 


THE  COMPANY  AT  CASTLE  CAREW.       99 

'  coiffure,  '  —  iu  fact,  in  all  affairs  of  good  taste.  Voila 
Walter,  par  exernple :  he  never  derange  me  for  a  moment,  — 
I  hope  I  never  ennuye  him." 

"Quite  right,  —  perfectly  right,"  said  Polly,  with  a  well- 
assumed  gravity. 

"By  Jove,  that's  only  single  harness  work,  after  all," 
said  MacNaghten;  "  I'd  rather  risk  a  kick,  now  and  then, 
and  have  another  beside  me  to  tug  at  this  same  burden  of 
daily  life." 

"  I  no  understand  you,  you  speak  so  fast.  How  droll  you 
are,  you  Irish  !  See  there,  the  Lord  Duke  and  my  husband, 
how  they  shake  hands  as  if  they  did  not  meet  before,  and 
they  walk  together  for  the  last  half-hour." 

"A  most  cordial  embrace,  indeed,"  said  Polly,  fixing  her 
eyes  on  Rutledge,  who  seemed  far  from  being  at  ease  under 
the  inspection,  while  MacNaghteu,  giving  one  hasty  glance 
through  the  window,  snatched  up  his  hat  and  left  the  room. 
He  passed  rapidly  down  the  stairs,  crossed  the  hall,  and  was 
just  leaving  the  house  when  my  father  met  him. 

"  The  very  man  I  wanted,  Dan,"  cried  he;  "  come  to  my 
room  with  me  for  a  few  minutes." 

As  they  entered  the  room,  my  father  turned  the  key  in  the 
door,  and  said,  — 

"  We  must  not  be  interrupted,  for  I  want  to  have  a  little 
talk  with  you.     I  have  just  parted  with  the  Duke  —  " 

"  I  know  it,"  broke  in  Dan,  "  I  saw  you  shake  hands  ;  and 
it  was  that  made  me  hurry  downstairs  to  meet  you." 

My  father  flushed  up  suddenly,  and  it  was  not  till  after  a 
few  seconds  he  was  collected  enough  to  continue. 

"  The  fact  is,  Dan,"  said  he,  "  this  gathering  of  the  clans 
has  been  a  most  unlucky  business,  after  all.  There's  no 
telling  how  it  might  have  turned  out,  with  favorable  weather 
and  good  sport ;  but  caged  up  together,  the  menagerie  has 
done  nothing  but  growl  and  show  their  teeth ;  and,  egad ! 
very  little  was  wanting  to  have  set  them  all  by  the  ears  in 
open   conflict." 

MacNaghten  shrugged  his  shoulders,  without  speaking. 

"  It's  an  experiment  I'll  assuredly  never  try  again,"  con- 
tinued my  father;  "  for  whether  it  is  that  I  have  forgotten 
Irishmen,  or  that  they  are  not  what  they  used  to  be,  but  all 
has  <joue  wrong." 


100  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

' '  Your  own  fault,  Watty.  You  were  far  too  anxious 
about  it  goiug  right;  and  whenever  a  man  wants  to  usurp 
destiny,  he  invariably  books  himself  for  a  '  break  down.' 
You  tried,  besides,  what  no  tact  nor  skill  could  manage. 
You  wanted  grand  people  to  be  grand,  and  witty  people  to  be 
witty,  and  handsome  people  to  look  beautiful.  Now,  the  very 
essence  of  a  party  like  this  is,  to  let  everybody  try  and  fancy 
themselves  something  that  they  are  not,  or  at  least  that  they 
are  not  usually.  Your  great  folk  ought  to  have  been  suffered 
to  put  off  the  greatness,  and  only  be  esteemed  for  their  exces- 
sive agreeability.  Your  smart  men  ought  not  to  have  been 
called  on  for  pleasantry,  but  only  thought  very  high-bred  and 
well-mannered,  or,  what  is  better  still,  well-born.  And  your 
beauties  should  have  been  permitted  to  astonish  us  all  by 
a  simplicity  that  despised  paint,  patches,  and  powder,  and 
captivate  us  all,  as  a  kind  of  domestic  shepherdesses." 

"It's  too  serious  for  jesting  about,  Dan ;  for  I  doubt  if  I 
have  not  offended  some  of  the  oldest  friends  I  had  in  the 
world." 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  MacNaghten,  more  seriously. 

"I  am  sadly  afraid  it  is  so,  though,"  said  my  father. 
"You  know  the  Fosbrokes  are  gone?" 

"  Gone?     When?     I  never  heard  of  it !  " 

"They're  gone.  They  left  this  about  an  hour  ago.  I 
must  say  it  was  very  absurd  of  them.  They  ought  to  have 
made  allowances  for  difference  of  country,  habits,  education  ; 
her  very  ignorance  of  the  language  should  have  been  taken 
as  an  excuse.     The  Tisdalls  I  am  less  surprised  at." 

"  Are  they  gone  too? " 

"Yes!  and  without  a  leave-taking,  —  except  so  far  as 
a  very  dry  note,  dated  five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  may  be 
taken  for  such,  telling  of  sudden  intelligence  just  received, 
immediate  necessity,  and  so  forth.  But  after  Harvey 
Hepton,  I  ought  to  be  astonished  at  nothing." 

"  What  of  Harvey?"  cried  Dan,  impatiently. 

"  Why,  he  came  into  my  room  while  I  was  dressing,  and 
before  I  had  time  to  ask  the  reason,  he  said,  — 

"  '  Watty,  you  and  I  have  been  friends  since  our  school- 
days, and  it  would  tell  very  badly  for  either,  or  both  of  us, 
if  we  quarrelled ;  and  that  no  such  ill-luck  may  befall  us,  I 
have  come  to  say  good-bye.' 


THE  COMPANY  AT  CASTLE  CAREW.       101 

"  '  Good-bye !  but  on  what  account?  '  exclaimed  I. 

"  '  Faith,  I  'd  rather  you  'd  guess  my  reason  than  ask  me 
for  it,  Watty.  You  well  know  how,  in  our  bachelor  days,  I 
used  to  think  this  house  half  my  own.  I  came  and  went  as 
often  without  an  invitation  as  with  one ;  aud  as  to  supposing 
that  I  was  not  welcome,  it  would  as  soon  have  occurred  to 
me  to  doubt  of  my  identity.  Now,  however,  we  are  both 
married.  Matters  are  totally  changed;  nor  does  it  follow, 
however  we  might  wish  it  so,  that  our  wives  will  like  each 
other  as  well  as  you  and  I  do.' 

"  '  I  see,  Harvey,'  said  I,  interrupting  him,  '  Mrs.  Hepton 
is  offended  at  my  wife's  want  of  attention  to  her  guests ;  but 
will  not  so  amiable  and  clever  a  person  as  Mrs.  Hepton  make 
allowances  for  inexperience,  a  new  country,  a  strange  lan- 
guage, her  very  youth,  —  she  is  not  eighteen? ' 

'"I'm  sure  my  wife  took  no  ill-natured  view  of  the  case. 
I  'm  certain  that  if  she  alone  were  concerned,  —  that  is,  I 
mean,  if  she  herself  were  the  only  sufferer  — ' 

"  '  So,  then,  it  seems  there  is  a  copartnery  in  this  mis- 
fortune,' broke  I  in,  half  angrily,  for  I  was  vexed  to  hear 
an  old  friend  talk  like  some  frumpy,  antiquated  dowager. 

"'That's  exactly  the  case,  Watty,'  said  he,  calmly. 
'  Your  friends  will  go  their  way,  sadly  enough,  perhaps,  but 
not  censoriously  ;  but  others  will  not  be  so  delicately  minded, 
and  there  will  be  plenty  rude  enough  to  say,  Who  and  what 
is  she  that  treats  us  all  in  this  fashion  ?  ' 

"  Yes,  Dan,"  cried  my  father,  with  a  flushed  brow  and  an 
eye  flashing  with  passion,  "  he  said  those  words  to  me,  stand- 
ing where  you  stand  this  instant!  I  know  nothing  more 
afterwards.  I  believe  he  said  something  about  old  friend- 
ship and  school-days,  but  I  heard  it  imperfectly,  and  I  was 
relieved  when  he  was  gone,  and  that  I  could  throw  myself 
down  into  that  chair,  and  thank  God  that  I  had  not  insulted 
an  old  friend  under  my  own  roof.  It  would  actually  seem 
as  if  some  evil  influence  were  over  the  place.  The  best- 
tempered  have  become  cross ;  the  good-natured  have  grown 
uncharitable ;  and  even  the  shrewd  fellows  that  at  least 
know  life  and  manners  have  actually  exhibited  themselves 
:i<  totally  deficient  in  the  commonest  elements  of  judgment. 
Jusl  think  of  Rutledge, — who,  if  not  a  very  clever  fellow, 


102  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

should,  at  all  events,  have  picked  up  some  share  of  luck  by 
his  position,  —  just  fancy  what  he  has  done  :  he  has  actually 
had  the  folly  —  I  might  well  give  it  a  worse  name  —  to  go  to 
Curtis  and  ask  him  to  make  some  kind  of  apology  to  the 
Duke  for  his  rude  refusal  of  leave  to  shoot  over  his  estate,  — 
a  piece  of  impertinence  that  Curtis  has  never  ceased  to  glory 
in  and  boast  of ;  a  refusal  that  the  old  fellow  has,  so  to  say, 
lived  on  ever  since,  —  to  ask  him  to  retract  and  excuse  it ! 
I  have  no  exact  knowledge  of  what  passed  between  them,  — 
indeed,  I  only  know  what  his  Grace  himself  told  me,  — but 
Curtis's  manner  must  have  been  little  short  of  outrage ;  and 
the  only  answer  Rutledge  could  obtain  from  him  was :  '  Did 
37our  master  send  you  with  this  message  to  me?'  — a  question, 
I  fancy,  the  other  was  not  disposed  to  answer.  The  upshot, 
however,  was,  that  as  the  Duke  was  taking  his  walk  this 
morning,  after  breakfast,  he  suddenly  came  upon  Curtis, 
who  was  evidently  waiting  for  him.  If  the  Duke  did  not 
give  me  very  exact  details  of  the  interview,  I  am  left  to  Con- 
jecture from  his  manner  that  it  must  have  been  one  of  no 
common  kind.  'Your  friend,'  said  his  Grace,  '  was  pleased 
to  tell  me  what  he  called  some  home  truths ;  he  took  a  rapid 
survey  of  the  acts  of  the  Government,  accompanying  it  with 
a  commentary  as  little  flattering  as  may  be ;  he  called  us  all 
by  very  hard  names,  and  did  not  spare  our  private  charac- 
ters. In  fact,  as  he  himself  assured  me,  fearing  so  good  an 
opportunity  might  not  readily  present  itself  of  telling  me  a 
piece  of  his  mind,  he  left  very  little  unsaid  on  any  topic  that 
he  could  think  of,  concluding  with  a  most  meaning  intima- 
tion that  although  he  had  refused  me  the  shooting  of  his 
woodcocks,  he  would  be  charmed  to  afford  me  the  opportu- 
nity of  another  kind  of  sport,  —  I  suppose  he  meant  a  better 
mark  for  me  to  aim  at;  and  so  he  left  me.'  Though  noth- 
ing could  possibly  be  in  better  taste  or  temper  than  the  Duke's 
recital  of  the  scene,  it  was  easy  to  see  that  he  was  sorely 
pained  and  offended  by  it.  Indeed,  he  wound  up  by  regret- 
ting that  a  very  urgent  necessity  would  recall  him  at  once  to 
town,  and  a  civil  assurance  that  he  'd  not  fail  to  complete 
his  visit  at  some  more  fortunate  opportunity.  I  turned  at 
once  to  seek  out  Curtis,  and  learn  his  version  of  the  affair ; 
but  he  and  Ffrench  had  already  taken  their  departure,  this 
brief  note  being  all  their  leave-taking  :  — 


THE   COMPANY   AT  CASTLE  CAREW.  103 

"  Dear  Watty,  — In  your  father's,  and  indeed  in  your  grand- 
father's, day  one  was  pretty  sure  what  company  might  be  met 
with  under  your  roof.  I  'm  sorry  to  see  times  are  changed,  and 
deeply  deplore  that  your  circumstances  make  it  necessary  for  you 
to  fill  your  house  with  Government  hacks,  spies,  and  informers. 
Take  my  word  for  it,  honest  men  and  their  wives  won't  like  such 
associates ;  and  though  they  sneer  now  at  the  Grinder's  daughter, 
she  '11  be  the  best  of  your  company  ere  long. 

"  My  compliments  to  his  Grace,  and  say  I  hope  he  '11  not  forget 
that  I  have  promised  him  some  shooting. 

"Yours   truly, 

"M.  Cuktis. 

"  A  line  from  Ffrench  followed  :  — 

"  D.  W.,  —  As  I  came  with  Curtis,  I  must  go  with  him  ;  but  I 
hope  soon  to  see  you,  and  explain  some  things  which  I  grieve  to 
defer  even  for  a  short  time. 

"  Now,  Dan,  I  ask  you,  is  this  courteous,  — is  it  even  fair 
and  manly?  They  see  me  endeavoring  to  bring  men  together 
socially  who,  whatever  their  political  differences,  might  yet 
learn  to  know  and  esteem  each  other  in  private.  They  com- 
prehend all  the  difficulty  imposed  by  my  wife's  extreme  youth 
and  inexperience ;  and  this  is  the  aid  they  give  me !  But  I 
know  well  what  it  means !  The  whole  thing  is  part  and 
parcel  of  that  tyranny  that  a  certain  set  of  fellows  have 
exercised  over  this  country  for  the  last  century.  A  blind, 
misguided,  indiscriminate  hatred  of  England  and  of  Eng- 
lishmen is  their  only  notion  of  a  policy,  and  they'd  stop 
short  at  nothing  iii  their  stupid  animosity.  They  've  mis- 
taken their  man,  however,  this  time.  Egad !  they  ought  to 
have  tried  some  other  game  before  they  ventured  to  bully 
me.  In  their  blind  ignorance,  they  fancied  that  because  I 
entertained  a  Viceroy,  I  must  necessarily  be  a  Castle  hack. 
Faith,  if  I  become  so  yet,  they  've  only  themselves  to  thank 
for  it.  As  it  is,  I  had  no  sooner  read  that  note  than  I 
hastened  downstairs  to  seek  the  Duke,  and  just  overtook 
him  in  the  shrubbery.  I  told  him  frankly  the  indignation  I 
felt  at  a  dictation  which  I  suffered  no  man  to  assume  towards 
me.  I  said  more,  —  I  assured  him  that  no  sneers  of  party, 
nor  any  intimidation  of  a  set,  should  ever  prevent  me  giving 
the  Government  a  support  whenever  the  measures  were  such 
as  in  my  conscience  I  approved  of.     I  am  the  more  free  to 


104  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

say  so,  because  I  want  nothing,  —  I  would  accept  of  nothing 
from  them ;  and  I  went  so  far  as  to  say  as  much.  '  I  '11 
never  insult  you  with  an  offer,  Carew,'  was  the  Duke's  reply 
to  me,  and  we  shook  hands  on  our  bargain !  " 

"  It  was  that  very  shake-hands  alarmed  me!  "  said  Dan, 
gravely ;  "I  saw  it  from  the  window,  and  guessed  there  was 
something  in  the  wind  !  " 

"  Come,  come,  Dan,  it 's  not  in  your  nature  to  be  suspect- 
ful ;  you  could  n't  possibly  suppose  —  " 

"  I  never  lose  time  in  suspecting  anybody,"  broke  in 
MacNaghten  ;  "  but  indeed  it 's  not  worth  any  one's  while  to 
plot  against  me !  I  only  say,  Watty,  don't  be  hurried  away 
by  any  momentary  anger  with  Curtis  and  the  like  of  him. 
You  have  a  fine  position,  don't  wreck  it  out  of  a  mere  pique  !  " 

"I'll  go  abroad  again!  I've  lived  too  long  out  of  this 
wasps'  nest  to  endure  the  eternal  buzzing  and  stinging  that 
goes  on  around  me." 

"  I  think  you're  right  there,"  said  MacNaghten. 

My  father  made  no  reply,  and  looked  anything  but  pleased 
at  the  ready  concurrence  in  his  plan. 

"  We  shall  never  understand  them,  nor  they  us,"  said  he, 
peevishly,  after  a  pause. 

MacNaghten  nodded  an  affirmative. 

"The  Duke,  of  course,  then,  remains  here?"  said  Dan, 
after  a  pause. 

"Of  course  he  does  not,"  replied  my  father,  pettishly; 
"  he  has  announced  to  me  the  urgent  necessity  of  his  return 
to  Dublin,  nor  do  I  see  that  anything  has  since  occurred  to 
alter  that  contingency." 

The  tone  in  which  he  had  spoken  these  words  showed  not 
only  how  he  felt  the  taunt  implied  in  Dan's  remark,  but  how 
sincerely  to  his  own  conscience  he  acknowledged  its  justice. 
There  was  no  doubt  of  it!  My  father's  patriotism,  that 
withstood  all  the  blandishments  of  "Castle"  flattery,  all 
the  seductions  of  power,  and  all  the  bright  visions  of  am- 
bition, had  given  way  under  the  impulse  of  a  wounded  self- 
love.  That  men  so  inferior  to  him  should  dictate  and  control 
his  actions,  presume  to  influence  his  whole  conduct,  and  even 
exercise  rule  in  his  household,  gave  him  deep  offence,  coming 
as  it  did  at  a  moment  when  his  spirit  was  chafed  by  disap- 


THE   COMPANY   AT   CASTLE   CAREW.  105 

pointment ;  and  tbu.s,  he  that  could  neither  have  been  bribed 
nor  bought  was  entrapped  by  a  trick  and  an  accident. 

Every  one  knows  that  there  are  little  social  panics  as  there 
are  national  ones,  —  terrors  for  which  none  can  account, 
leading  to  actions  for  which  none  can  give  the  reason ;  so 
here,  all  of  a  sudden,  all  the  guests  discovered  that  they  had 
reached  the  limit  of  their  stay :  some  had  to  hasten  home  to 
receive  visitors,  others  were  engaged  elsewhere ;  there  were 
innumerable  calls  of  duty,  and  affection,  and  business,  all 
uttered  with  the  accustomed  sincerity,  and  listened  to  by  my 
father  with  a  cold  acquiescence  which  assuredly  gave  no 
fresh  obstacles  to  the  departures. 

As  for  my  mother,  her  graciousness  at  the  leave-takings 
only  served  to  increase  the  displeasure  her  former  indiffer- 
ence had  created.  It  seemed  as  if  her  courtesy  sprung  out 
of  the  pleasure  of  being  free  from  her  guests ;  and  as  she 
uttered  some  little  polite  phrase  in  her  broken  language  to 
each,  the  recipients  looked  anything  but  flattered  at  the 
alteration  of  her  manner.  The  Viceroy  alone  seemed  to 
accept  these  civilities  literally ;  he  vowed  that  he  had  never 
enjoyed  three  days  more  in  his  life ;  that  Castle  Carew  and 
its  hospitalities  would  hold  the  very  first  place  in  his  future 
recollections  of  Ireland  :  these  and  such  like,  uttered  with 
the  very  best  of  manners,  and  with  all  the  influence  which 
rank  could  bestow,  actually  delighted  my  mother,  who  was 
not  slow  to  contrast  the  high-bred  tone  of  the  great  person- 
age with  the  less  flattering  deportment  of  her  other  guests. 

It  would  not  be  a  very  pleasing  task  were  we  to  play  the 
eavesdropper,  and,  following  the  various  carriages  of  the 
departing  company,  hear  the  comments  now  so  freely  be- 
stowed on  the  host  of  Castle  Carew.  It  is  true  some  were 
kind-hearted  enough  to  see  all  the  difficulties  of  my  father's 
position  in  the  true  light,  and  to  hope  that  by  time  and  a 
little  management  these  might  be  overcome. 

There  were  others  less  generous;  but  what  they  said  it 
would  be  scarcely  more  graceful  of  me  to  repeat;  enough 
that  my  mother  was  the  especial  mark  of  the  strictures,  — 
the  censure  of  my  father  went  no  further  than  compassion! 
And  oli,  dear!  when  the  world  condescends  to  compassion, 
what  execration  is  equal  to  it!     How  beautifully  it  draws 


106  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

up  the  full  indictment  of  your  failings,  that  it  may  extend 
its  clemency  to  each !  How  carefully  does  it  discriminate 
between  your  depravity  and  your  weakness,  that  it  may  not 
wrong  you  !  But  how  cutting  is  the  hopefulness  it  expresses 
for  your  future,  by  suggesting  some  utterly  impossible  road 
for  your  reformation ! 

And  now  they  were  all  gone,  —  all  except  Polly  Fagan  and 
MacNaghten;  but  Dan,  indeed,  was  part  of  the  household, 
and  came  and  went  as  he  liked.  Fagan  had  sent  his  car- 
riage to  Bray  to  meet  his  daughter,  as  had  been  agreed 
upon;  but  a  letter  from  Polly  came  to  say  that  Madame 
Carew  had  pressed  her  with  so  much  kindness  to  remain, 
and  that  she  herself  was  so  happy,  that  she  sincerely  hoped 
the  permission  might  be  accorded  her.  The  note  concluded 
by  stating  that  Mr.  Carew  would  visit  Dublin  by  the  end 
of  the  week,  and  take  that  opportunity  of  leaving  her  at 
home. 

"Oh,  que  nous  sommes  bien,  ainsi!"  exclaimed  my 
mother,  as  the  little  party  of  four  sat  down  to  dinner ;  and 
all  seemed  to  applaud  the  sentiment  but  my  father,  who 
seemed  far  more  thoughtful  and  grave  than  his  wont.  Even 
this,  however,  threw  no  gloom  over  the  rest,  who  were  in  the 
very  happiest  and  best  of  humors.  My  mother  was  in  all 
the  ecstasy  of  her  now  joyous  nature,  suddenly  emancipated 
from  the  toilsome  drudgery  of  a  duty  she  disliked.  Polly, 
flattered  by  the  tone  of  perfect  equality  extended  to  her,  and 
by  the  unequivocal  preference  of  my  mother  for  her,  hourly 
developed  more  and  more  of  those  graces  which  only  needed 
opportunity  for  their  growth,  and  displayed  charms  >of 
manner  and  resources  of  mind  that  actually  delighted  her 
companions ;  while  in  MacNaghten's  happy  nature  and  gay- 
heartedness  there  was  the  only  other  element  wanting  to 
make  the  party  a  most  pleasant  one. 

The  arrival  of  the  letter-bag  —  that  little  moment  which  in 
every  country  household  forms  the  privileged  interruption  to 
every  care  and  every  amusement  —  broke  suddenly  in  upon 
their  carouse ;  and  as  my  father  unlocked  the  precious  sack, 
each  looked  eagerly  for  his  share  of  the  contents. 

"All  for  myself,  I  see,"  muttered  he;  "nothing  but 
4  Walter  Carew '  here.     Your  creditors  are   forgetting  you, 


THE   COMPANY    AT   CASTLE   CAREW.  107 

Dan,  —  not  even  a  note  of  reminder  or  remonstrance.  Silence, 
of  course,  means  consent,  Miss  Polly:  your  father  says 
nothing  against  your  stay.  But  what  is  this,  Josephine? 
This  looks  as  if  meant  for  you ;  but  it  has  been  sent  over 
half  the  post-offices  of  the  kingdom,  with  '  Try  Compton 
Basset,  Caresfort,  and  Chirck  Castle,'  I  believe  this  is  ;  there 's 
no  making  out  the  address." 

"Plain  enough,  I  think,"  cried  MacNaghteu;  "it  is, 
•  Madame  la  Comtesse  de  Carew,  a  son  Chateau,  ou  en 
Ville,  Irlande.'" 

"  At  all  events,  it  is  for  me,"  said  my  mother,  breaking 
the  seal  with  impatience.  Scarcely  had  she  opened  the 
letter  when  she  exclaimed,  "Oh,  la  bonne  chance, — only 
think,  Walter,  here  is  Emile  de  Gabriac  coming  to  Ireland  !  " 

"You  forget,  dearest,  that  I  have  never  seen  him,"  said 
my  father,  dryly. 

"  Does  that  signify?"  said  she,  with  enthusiastic  rapidity. 
"  Is  he  not  known  over  all  Europe  by  reputation?  That  dear 
Emile,  so  good,  so  generous,  so  handsome,  so  full  of  accom- 
plishments, —  rides  so  perfectly,  sings  so  beautifully.  Ah, 
ma  chere,  c'est  fait  de  vous,"  said  she  to  Polly,  "  when  you 
see  him." 

Polly  only  smiled  and  bowed,  with  an  arch  look  of  sub- 
mission, while  my  father  broke  in,  — 

"  But  how  comes  it  that  so  much  brilliancy  should  waste 
itself  on  the  unprofitable  atmosphere  of  Ireland?  What  is 
bringing  him  here?" 

My  mother  continued  to  read  on,  heedless  of  the  question, 
not,  however,  without  showing  by  her  countenance  the  various 
emotions  which  the  letter  excited  ;  for  while,  at  times,  her 
color  came  and  went,  and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  a  smile 
would  pass  suddenly  across  her  features,  and  at  last  a  merry 
burst  of  laughter  stopped  her.  "  Shall  I  read  it  for  you?" 
cried  she,  "  for  it  will  save  me  a  world  of  explanations. 
This  is  dated  from  our  dear  old  country-house  on  the 
Loire,  Chateau  de  Lesieux  ■:  — 

"'April  20th. 

"'Ma  chere  et  ma  belle  Fifine,'  —  he  always  called  me 
Fifine  when  we  were  children.  ["Humph!"  muttered  my 
father,  "  read  on !  "  and  she  resumed  :]  '  Ma  belle  Fifine,  — 


108  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

How  the  dear  name  recalls  happy  hours,  gay,  buoyant,  and 
brilliant  with  all  that  could  make  life  a  paradise !  when  we 
were  both  so  much  in  love  with  all  the  world,  and,  conse- 
quently, with  each  other!'  Ah,  oui,"  exclaimed  she,  in  a 
tone  so  perfectly  simple  as  to  make  MacNaghten  burst  out 
into  a  laugh,  which  Polly  with  difficulty  refrained  from  join- 
ing. —  "  'You,'"  continued  she,  reading,  "  '  you,  ma  belle, 
have  doubtless  grown  wiser ;  but  I  remain  the  same  dreamy, 
devoted  thing  you  once  knew  me.  Well,  perhaps  we  may 
soon  have  an  opportunity  to  talk  over  all  this ;  and  so  now 
no  more  of  it.  You  may  perhaps  have  heard  —  I  cannot 
guess  what  news  may  or  may  not  reach  you  in  your  far-away 
solitudes  —  that  the  Cour  de  Cassation  has  decided  against 
me,  and  that,  consequently,  they  have  not  only  rejected  my 
claim,  but  have  actually  questioned  my  right  to  the  domain 
of  Chasse  Loups  and  the  famous  jewels  which  my  grandfather 
received  from  Isabella  of  Spain. 

"  '  They  say  —  I  'm  not  going  to  worry  you  with  details, 
but  they  say  something  to  this  effect  —  that  as  we  were  en- 
gaged with  Law  in  that  great  scheme  of  his,  —  the  Missis- 
sippi affair  they  called  it,  —  we  stand  responsible,  in  all  that 
we  possess,  to  the  creditors  or  the  heirs,  as  if  we  ourselves 
were  not  the  greatest  losers  by  that  charlatan  of  the  Rue 
Quincampoix !  Perhaps  you  never  heard  of  that  notorious 
business,  nor  knew  of  a  time  when  all  Paris  went  mad  to- 
gether, and  bartered  everything  of  price  and  value  for  the 
worthless  scrip  of  a  mountebank's  invention.  How  sorry  I 
am,  dearest  Fifine,  to  tease  you  with  all  this,  but'I  cannot 
help  it.  They  have  found  —  that  is,  the  lawyers  —  that 
there  are  two  parties  in  existence  whose  claims  extend  to 
our  poor  old  chateau  by  some  private  arrangement  contracted 
between  my  grandfather  and  the  then  Due  d'Orle'ans.  One 
of  these  is  Louis's  own  son,  now  living  at  Venice ;  the  other 
—  you'll  scarcely  believe  me  —  yourself!  Yes,  my  dear 
cousin,  you  possess  a  part  right  over  Chasse  Loups.  There 
was  a  day  when  you  might  have  had  the  whole !  —  not  my 
fault  that  it  was  not  so ! '  " 

"  Is  this  a  lover's  letter,  or  a  lawyer's,  Josephine?"  said 
my  father,  dryly. 

"Ah,  you  cannot  understand  Emile,"  said  she,  artlessly; 


THE  COMPANY  AT  CASTLE  CAREW.       109 

"  he  is  so  unlike  the  rest  of  the  world,  poor  fellow  !  But  I  '11 
read  on. 

"  '  It  all  comes  to  this,  Fifine  :  you  must  give  me  a  release, 
so  they  call  it,  and  Louis,  if  I  can  find  him  out,  must  do 
something  of  the  same  kind  ;  for  I  am  going  to  be  married ' 
—  [she  paused  for  a  few  seconds,  and  then  read  on]  '  to  be 
married  to  Mademoiselle  de  Nipernois,  sister  of  Charles  de 
Nipernois.  When  you  went,  remember,  as  a  page  to  the 
Queen,  you  never  saw  ma  belle  Hortense,  for  she  was  edu- 
cated at  Bruges.  Alas,  oui !  so  is  my  episode  to  end  also  ! 
Meanwhile  I  'm  coming  to  see  you,  to  obtain  your  signature 
to  these  tiresome  papers,  and  to  be,  for  a  while  at  least,  out 
of  the  way,  since  I  have  been  unlucky  enough  to  wound 
Auguste  Vallaume  seriously,  I  'm  afraid,  — all  his  own  fault, 
however,  as  I  will  tell  you  at  another  time.  Now,  can  you 
receive  me,  —  I  mean  is  it  convenient?  Will  it  be  in  any  way 
unpleasant?  Does  le  bon  mari  like  or  dislike  us  French? 
Will  he  be  jealous  of  our  cousinage?  ' ''' 

"On  the  score  of  frankness,  Josephine,  you  may  tell 
him  I  have  nothing  to  complain  of,"  broke  in  my  father, 
dryly. 

"  Is  it  not  so?"  rejoined  my  mother.  "  Emile  is  candor 
itself."  She  read  :  "  '  At  all  hazards,  I  shall  try,  Fifine. 
If  he  does  not  like  me,  he  must  banish  me.  The  difficulty 
will  be  to  know  where ;  for  I  have  debts  on  all  sides,  and 
nothing  but  marriage  will  set  me  right.  Droll  enough,  that 
one  kind  of  slavery  is  to  be  the  refuge  for  another.  Some  of 
your  husband's  old  associates  here  tell  me  he  is  charming,  — 
that  he  was  the  delight  of  all  the  society  at  one  time.  Tell 
me  all  about  him.  I  can  so  readily  like  anything  that  belongs 
to  you,  I'm  prepared  already  to  esteem  him.'" 

"  Most  flattering,"  murmured  my  father. 

"  '  It  will  be  too  late,  dear  cousin,  to  refuse  me ;  for  when 
this  reaches  you,  I  shall  be  already  on  the  way  to  your  moun- 
tains. —  Are  they  mountains,  by  the  way  ?  —  So  then  make  up 
your  mind  to  my  visit,  with  the  best  grace  you  can.  I  should 
fill  this  letter  with  news  of  all  our  friends  and  acquaintances 
here,  but  that  I  rely  upon  these  very  narratives  to  amuse  you 
when  we  meet,  —  not  that  there  is  anything  very  strange 
or  interesting  to  recount.     People  marry,  and  quarrel,  ami 


110  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

make  love,  fight,  go  in  debt,  and  die,  in  our  enlightened  age, 
without  the  slightest  advancement  on  the  wisdom  of  our  an- 
cestors ;  and  except  that  we  think  very  highly  of  ourselves, 
and  very  meanly  of  all  others,  I  do  not  see  that  we  have  made 
any  considerable  progress  in  our  knowledge. 

"  '  I  am  all  eagerness  to  see  you  once  again.  Are  you 
altered  ?  —  I  hope  and  trust  not.  Neither  fatter  nor  thinner, 
nor  paler,  nor  more  carnation,  than  I  knew  you  ;  not  graver, 
I  could  swear.  No,  ma  chere  cousine,  yours  was  ever  a 
nature  to  extract  brightness  from  what  had  been  gloom  to 
others.  What  a  happy  inspiration  was  it  of  that  good  Mon- 
sieur Carew  to  relieve  the  darkness  of  his  native  climate  by 
such  brilliancy ! 

"'Still,  how  many  sacrifices  must  this  banishment  have 
cost  you  !  Do  not  deny  it,  Fifine.  If  you  be  not  very  much 
in  love,  this  desolation  must  be  a  heavy  infliction.  I  have 
just  been  looking  at  the  map,  and  the  whole  island  has  an 
air  of  indescribable  solitude  and  remoteness,  and  much  fur- 
ther distant  from  realms  of  civilization  than  I  fancied.  You 
must  be  my  guide,  Fifine ;  I  will  accept  of  no  other  to  all 
those  wonderful  sea-caves  and  coral  grottoes  which  I  hear  so 
much  of !  What  excursions  am  I  already  planning !  what 
delicious  hours,  floating  over  the  blue  sea,  beneath  those 
gigantic  cliffs  that  even  in  a  woodcut  look  stupendous  !  And 
so  you  live  almost  entirely  upon  fish !  I  must  teach  your 
chef  some  Breton  devices  in  cookery.  My  old  tutor,  who 
was  a  cure"  at  Scamosse,  taught  me  to  dress  soles  "en 
gratin,"  with  two  simple  herbs  to  be  found  everywhere ;  so 
that,  like  Vincent  de  Paul,  I  shall  be  extending  the  blessings 
of  cultivation  in  the  realms  of  barbarism.  I  picture  you 
strolling  along  the  yellow  beach,  or  standing  storm-lashed 
on  some  lone  rock,  with  your  favorite  pet  seal  at  your 
feet.' " 

"Is  the  gentleman  an  idiot,  or  is  he  only  ignorant?" 
broke  in  my  father. 

My  mother  gave  a  glance  of  half-angry  astonishment,  and 
resumed  :  "  '  A  thousand  pardons,  ma  chere  et  bonne ;  but, 
with  my  habitual  carelessness,  I  have  been  looking  at  Ice- 
land, and  not  Ireland,  on  the  map.  You  will  laugh,  I'm 
certain  ;  but  confess  how  natural  was  the  mistake,  how  simi- 


THE  COMPANY  AT  CASTLE  CAREW.      Ill 

lar  the  names,  how  like  are  they,  perhaps,  in  other  respects. 
At  all  events,  I  cannot  alter  what  I  have  written  ;  it  shall 
go,  if  only  to  let  you  have  one  more  laugh  at  that  silly  Emile, 
whose  blunders  have  so  often  amused  you.  Pray  do  not  tell 
your  "dear  husbaud "  of  my  mistake,  lest  his  offended 
nationality  should  take  umbrage  ;  and  I  am  resolved  —  yes, 
Fifine,  I  am  determined  on  his  liking  me.'  " 

My  father's  face  assumed  an  expression  here  that  was  far 
too  much  for  MacNaghten's  gravity ;  but  my  mother  read 
on,  unconcerned:  "'And  now  I  have  but  to  say  when  I 
shall  be  with  you.  It  may  be  about  the  12th  —  not  later 
than  the  20th  —  of  next  month.  I  shall  take  no  one  but 
Francois  with  me ;  I  shall  not  even  bring  the  clogs,  only 
Jocasse,  my  monkey,  —  for  whom,  by  the  way,  I  beg  to  be- 
speak a  quiet  room,  with  a  south  aspect.  I  hope  the  climate 
will  not  injure  him ;  but  Dr.  Reynault  has  given  me  numer- 
ous directions  about  his  clothing,  and  a  receipt  for  a  white 
wine  posset  that  he  assures  me  will  be  very  bracing  to  his 
nervous  system.  You  have  no  idea  how  susceptible  he  has 
grown  latterly  about  noise  and  tumult.  The  canaille  have 
taken  to  parade  the  streets,  singing  and  shouting  their  odious 
songs,  and  Jocasse  has  suffered  much  from  the  disturbance. 
I  mentioned  the  fact  to  M.  Mirabeau,  whom  I  met  at  your 
aunt's  the  other  night,  and  he  remarked  gravely,  "It's  a 
bad  time  for  monkeys  just  now,  —  '  singerie '  has  had  its 
day."  The  expression  struck  me  as  a  very  hollow,  if  not  a 
very  heartless,  one ;  but  I  may  say,  en  passant,  that  this 
same  M.  Mirabeau,  whom  it  is  the  fashion  to  think  clever 
and  agreeable,  is  only  abrupt  and  rude,  with  courage  to  say 
the  coarse  things  that  good-breeding  retreats  from !  I  am 
glad  to  find  how  thoroughly  the  Court  dislikes  him.  They 
say  that  he  has  had  the  effrontery  to  tell  the  King  the  most 
disagreeable  stories  about  popular  discontent,  distress,  and 
so  forth.  I  need  scarcely  say  that  he  met  the  dignified 
rebuke  such  underbred  observations  merited. 

"  '  And  now,  Fifine,  to  say  adieu  until  it  be  my  happiness 
once  again  to  embrace  you  and  that  dear  Carew,  who  must 
have  more  good  qualities  than  I  have  known  centred  in  one 
individual,  to  deserve  you.  Think  of  me,  dearest  cousin, 
and  do  not  forget  Jocasse.' " 


112  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

"The  association  will  aid  you  much,"  said  my  father, 
dryly. 

"  'Let  him  have  a  cheerful  room,  and  put  me  anywhere, 
so  that  I  have  a  place  in  your  heart.  Your  dearly  attached 
cousin, 

"'Emile  de  Gabriac' " 

"  Is  that  all?"  asked  my  father,  as  she  concluded. 

"  A  few  words  on  the  turn-down  :  '  Hortense  has  just  sent 
me  her  picture.  She  is  blond,  but  her  eyes  want  color  ;  the 
hair,  too,  is  sandy,  and  not  silky  ;  the  mouth  —  But  why  do 
I  go  on?  —  it  is  not  Fifine's.'" 

"  Our  cousin  is  the  most  candid  of  mortals,"  said  my 
father,  quietly;  "whatever  opinion  we  may  entertain  of  his 
other  gifts,  on  the  score  of  frankness  he  is  unimpeachable. 
Don't  you  think  so,  Miss  Polly?  " 

"  His  letter  is  a  most  unreserved  one,  indeed,"  said  she, 
cautiously. 

And  now  a  silence  fell  on  all,  for  each  was  following  out 
in  his  own  way  some  train  of  thought  suggested  by  the 
Count's  letter.  As  if  to  change  the  current  of  his  reflections, 
my  father  once  more  turned  to  the  letter-bag,  and  busied 
himself  running  hastily  over  some  of  the  many  epistles 
addressed  to  him.  Apparently  there  was  little  to  interest  or 
amuse  amongst  them,  for  he  threw  them  from  him  half  read, 
—  some,  indeed,  when  he  had  but  deciphered  the  writers' 
names ;  one  short  note  from  Hackett,  his  man  of  business, 
alone  seemed  to  excite  his  attention,  and  this  he  read  over 
twice. 

"  Look  at  that,  Dan,"  said  he,  handing  the  paper  to  Mac- 
Naghten,  who,  walking  to  the  window  slowly,  perused  the 
following  lines :  — 

"Dear  Sir,  —  In  accordance  with  the  directions  con- 
tained in  your  note  of  Friday  last,  and  handed  to  me  by  Mr. 
Fagan,  I  placed  at  his  disposal  all  the  deeds  and  securities 
at  present  in  my  possession,  for  him  to  select  such  as  would 
appear  sufficient  guarantee  for  the  sum  advanced  to  you  on 
that  day.  I  now  beg  to  state  that  he  has  made  choice  of  the 
title  to  Lucksleven  silver  mine,  and  a  bond  of  joint  mortgage 
over  a  French  estate  which  I  apprehend  to  form  part  of  the 


THE  COMPANY  AT  CASTLE  CAREW.  113 

dowry  of  Madame  Carew.  I  endeavored  to  induce  him  to 
make  choice  of  some  other  equally  valuable  document,  not 
knowing  whether  this  selection  might  be  to  your  satisfaction  ; 
he,  however,  persisted,  and  referred  to  the  tenor  of  your 
note  to  substantiate  his  right.  Of  course,  I  could  offer  no 
further  opposition,  and  have  now  only  to  mention  the  cir- 
cumstance for  your  information.  I  have  the  honor  to  be, 
dear  sir,  respectfully  yours, 

"  E.  Hackett." 

"  Curious  enough,  that,  Dan  !  "  muttered  my  father. 
MacNaghten  assented  with  a  nod,  and  handed  back  the 
letter. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

POLITICS    AND    NEWSPAPERS. 

The  venality  and  corruption  which  accomplished  the  Legis- 
lative Union  between  England  and  Ireland  admit  of  as  little 
doubt  as  of  palliation.  There  was  an  epidemic  of  baseness 
over  the  land,  and  but  few  escaped  the  contagion.  To  what- 
ever section  of  party  an  Irishman  may  belong,  he  never  can 
cease  to  mourn  over  the  degenerate  temper  of  a  time  which 
exhibited  the  sad  spectacle  of  a  Legislature  declaring  its 
own  downfall.  Nor  does  the  secret  history  of  the  measure 
offer  much  ground  for  consolation. 

And  yet  what  a  position  did  the  Irish  Parliament  hold,  but 
eighteen  short  years  before  that  event !  Never,  perhaps,  in 
the  whole  history  of  constitutional  government  was  the  stand 
of  a  representative  body  more  boldly  maintained,  alike 
against  the  power  and  the  secret  influence  of  the  Crown ; 
and  England,  in  all  the  plenitude  of  her  glory  and  influence, 
was  forced  to  declare  the  necessity  of  finally  adjusting  the 
differences  between  the  two  countries. 

The  very  admission  of  separate  interests  seemed  a  fatal 
confession,  and  might  —  had  a  more  cautious  temper  swayed 
the  counsels  of  the  Irish  party  —  have  led  to  very  momen- 
tous consequences ;  but  in  the  enthusiasm  of  victory  all 
thought  of  the  spoils  was  forgotten.  It  was  a  moment  of 
national  triumph  from  which  even  the  coldest  could  not 
withhold  his  sympathies.  The  "  Dungannon  Declaration" 
became  at  once  the  adopted  sentiment  of  the  national  party, 
and  it  was  agreed  that  Ireland  was  bound  by  no  laws  save 
such  as  her  own  Lords  and  Commons  enacted. 

In  the  very  crisis  of  this  national  enthusiasm  was  it  that 
the  Duke  of  Portland  arrived  as  Viceroy  in  Ireland.  His 
secret  instructions  counselled  him  to  endeavor  to  prorogue 


POLITICS  AND  NEWSPAPERS.  115 

the  Parliament,  and  thus  obtain  a  short  breathing-time  for 
future  action.  This  policy,  in  the  then  temper  of  the  people, 
was  soon  declared  impossible.  Mr.  Grattan  had  already 
announced  his  intention  of  proposing  a  final  settlement  of 
the  national  differences  by  a  -"Bill  of  Rights."  and  the 
country  would  not  brook  any  delay  as  to  their  expectations. 

But  one  other  safe  course  remained,  which  was.  by  a 
seeming  concurrence  in  the  views  of  the  Irish  party,  to 
affect  that  a  change  had  come  over  the  spirit  of  English 
legislation  towards  Ireland,  and  a  sincere  desire  grown  up 
to  confirm  her  in  the  possession  of  "  every  privilege  not 
inconsistent  with  the  stability  of  the  empire."  Mr.  Grattan 
was  induced  to  see  the  Viceroy  in  private,  and  submit  to 
his  Grace  his  intended  declaration  of  rights.  Without  con- 
ceding the  slightest  alteration  in  his  plan,  the  great  leader 
was  evidently  impressed  by  the  conciliating  tone  of  the 
Duke.  and.  with  a  generous  credulity,  led  to  believe  iu  the 
most  favorable  dispositions  of  the  Government  towards 
Ireland.  The  measure  in  itself  was  so  strong  and  so 
decisive  that  the  Duke  could  not  say  how  it  would  be 
received  by  his  party.  He  had  no  time  to  ask  for  instruc- 
tions, for  Parliament  was  to  assemble  on  the  day  but  one 
after;  and  thus  was  he  driven  to  a  policy  of  secret  influence. 
—  the  origin  of  that  school  of  corruption  which  ultimately 
was  to  effect  the  doom  of  Irish  nationality. 

I  am  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  impose  upon  my  reader  even 
so  much  of  a  digression ;  but  the  requirements  of  my  story 
demand  it.  I  wish,  as  briefly,  of  course,  as  may  : 
place  before  him  a  state  of  society  wherein  as  yet  the  arts 
of  corruption  had  made  no  great  progress,  and  in  which  the 
open  bribery  of  a  subsequent  time  would  have  been  perfectly 
impossible. 

This  was  in  reality  a  great  moment  iu  Irish  history.  The 
patriotism  of  the  nation  had  declared  itself  not  less  man- 
fully than  practically.  The  same  avowal  which  pronounced 
independence  also  proclaimed  the  principles  of  free  trade, 
and  that  the  ports  of  Ireland  were  open  to  all  foreign  coun- 
tries not  at  war  with  England.  It  is  humiliating  enough  to 
contrast  the  patriotic  spirit  of  those  times  with  the  miserable 
policy  of  popular  leaders  in  our  own  day;   but  in  the  names 


116  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

of  the  men  who  then  swayed  her  counsels  we  read  some 
of  the  greatest  orators  and  statesmen  of  our  country,  —  a 
race  worthy  of  nobler  successors  than  those  who  now  trade 
upon  the  wrongs  of  Ireland,  and  whose  highest  aspirations 
for  their  country  are  in  the  despotism  of  an  ignorant  and 
intolerant  priesthood. 

The  Duke  of  Portland  was  not  ill  suited  to  the  task  before 
him.  A  man  of  more  shining  abilities,  one  who  possessed 
in  a  higher  degree  the  tact  of  winning  over  his  opponents, 
might  have  awakened  suspicion  and  distrust;  but  his  was 
precisely  the  stamp  and  temperament  which  suggest  con- 
fidence ;  and  in  his  moderate  capacity  and  easy  nature  there 
seemed  nothing  to  excite  alarm.  "Bonhomie"  —  shame 
that  we  must  steal  a  French  word  ror  an  English  quality !  — 
was  his  great  characteristic ;  and  all  who  came  within  the 
circle  of  his  acquaintance  felt  themselves  fascinated  by  his 
free  and  unpretending  demeanor. 

To  him  was  now  intrusted  the  task  of  sowing  schism 
among  the  members  of  the  Irish  party,  —  the  last  and  ouly 
resource  of  the  English  Government  to  thwart  the  progress 
of  national  independence.  The  Opposition  had  almost  ever}7 
element  of  strength.  Amongst  them  were  the  first  and  most 
brilliant  orators  of  the  day,  —  men  trained  to  all  the  habits 
of  debate,  and  thoroughly  masters  of  all  Irish  questions. 
They  possessed  the  entire  confidence  of  the  great  body  of 
the  people,  asserting,  as  they  did,  the  views  and  sentiments 
of  the  country ;  and  they  were,  what  at  that  time  had  its 
own  peculiar  value,  men  of  great  boldness  and  intrepidity. 
There  was  but  one  feature  of  weakness  in  the  whole  party, 
and  this  was  the  almost  inevitable  jealousy  which  is  sure  to 
prevail  where  many  men  of  great  abilities  are  mixed  up 
together,  and  where  the  success  of  a  party  must  alternately 
depend  upon  qualities  the  most  discrepant  and  opposite. 
The  very  purest  patriotism  is  sure  to  assume  something  of 
the  character  of  the  individual ;  and  in  these  varying  tints  of 
individuality  the  Irish  Government  had  now  to  seek  for  the 
chance  of  instilling  those  doubts  and  hesitations  which 
ultimately  must  lead  to  separation. 

Nor  was  this  the  only  artifice  to  which  they  descended. 
They  also  invented  a  policy  which  in  later  days  has  been 


POLITICS  AND  NEWSPAPERS.  117 

essayed  with  very  indifferent  success,  which  was,  to  outbid 
the  national  party  in  generosity,  and  to  become  actual 
benefactors  where  mere  justice  was  asked  at  their  hands,  — 
a  very  dangerous  game,  which,  however  well  adapted  for  a 
critical  emergencj7,  is  one  of  the  greatest  peril  as  a  line  of 
policy  and  a  system  of  government.  In  the  spirit  of  this 
new  tactic  was  it  that  Mr.  Bagenal's  motion  to  confer  some 
great  mark  of  national  gratitude  on  Mr.  Grattan  was  quickly 
followed  by  an  offer  of  the  Viceroy  to  bestow  upon  him 
the  Viceregal  palace  in  the  Phcenix  Park,  as  "a  suitable 
residence  for  one  who  had  conferred  the  greatest  services  on 
his  country,  and  as  the  highest  proof  the  Government  could 
give  of  their  value  of  such  services."  A  proposal  of  such 
unbounded  generosity  was  sure  to  dim  the  lustre  of  the 
popular  enthusiasm,  and  at  the  same  time  cast  a  shadow  of 
ministerial  protection  over  the  patriot  himself,  who,  in  the 
event  of  acceptance,  would  have  been  the  recipient  of  royal, 
and  not  of  national,  bounty.  And  when,  in  fact,  the  grant 
of  a  sum  of  money  was  voted  by  Parliament,  the  splendor  of 
the  gift  was  sadly  tarnished  by  the  discussion  that  accom- 
panied it ! 

Enough  has  here  been  said  to  show  the  general  policy  of 
that  short  but  eventful  administration ;  and  now  to  our 
story. 

My  father's  reception  of  the  Viceroy  had  blazed  in  all  the 
ministerial  papers  with  a  kind  of  triumphant  announcement 
of  the  progress  the  Government  were  making  in  the  esteem 
and  confidence  of  the  Irish  gentry.  Walter  Carew  was 
quoted  as  the  representative  of  a  class  eminently  national, 
and  one  most  unlikely  to  be  the  mark  for  Castle  intrigue  or 
seduction.  His  large  fortune  was  expatiated  on,  and  an 
"  authentic  assurance  "  put  forth  that  he  had  already  refused 
the  offer  of  being  made  a  Privy  Councillor.  These  state- 
ments were  sure  to  provoke  rejoinder.  The  national  papera 
denied  that  the  hospitalities  of  Castle  Carew  had  any  peculiar 
or  political  significance.  It  was  very  natural  that  one  of  the 
first  of  the  gentry  should  receive  the  representative  of  his 
Sovereign  with  honor,  and  pay  him  every  possible  mark  of 
respect  and  attention.  Bui  that  Walter  Carew  had  done 
any  more  than  this,  or  had    sacrificed  anything  of  his  old 


118  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

connection  with  bis  party,  the  best  contradiction  lay  in  the 
fact  that  his  guests  contained  many  of  the  very  foremost 
and  least  compromising  men  of  the  Liberal  party ;  and 
"Curtis"  was  quoted  in  a  very  conspicuous  type  as  the 
shortest  refutation  of  such  a  charge. 

It  was,  unfortunately,  a  moment  of  political  inaction  —  a 
lull  in  the  storm  of  Parliamentary  conflict  —  when  this  discus- 
sion originated ;  and  the  newspapers  were  but  too  happy  to 
have  any  theme  to  occupy  the  attention  of  their  readers. 
The  Castle  press  became  more  confident  and  insulting  every 
day,  and  at  last  tauntingly  asked  why  and  how  did  this  great 
champion  of  nationality,  —  Curtis,  —  take  leave  of  Castle 
Carew?  The  question  was  unreplied  to,  and  consequently 
appeared  again,  and  in  larger  capitals,  followed  by  an  article 
full  of  innuendo  and  insinuation,  and  conveying  the  most 
impertinent  allusions  to  the  antiquated  section  of  party  to 
which  Curtis  belonged 

It  is  notorious  that  a  subject  totally  devoid  of  any  interest 
in  itself  will,  by  the  bare  force  of  repetition,  assume  a 
degree  of  importance  far  above  its  due,  and  ultimately 
engage  the  sympathies  of  many  for  or  against  it.  Such  was 
the  case  here ;  certain  personalities,  that  occasionally  were 
thrown  out,  giving  a  piquancy  to  the  controversy,  and  invest- 
ing it  with  the  attraction  of  town  gossip.  "  Falkner's  Jour- 
nal," "The  Press,"  "The  Post,"  and  "The  Freeman" 
appeared  each  morning  with  some  new  contribution  on  the 
same  theme;  and  letters  from,  and  contradictions  to,  "A 
Visitor  at  Castle  Carew,"  continued  to  amuse  the  world  of 
Dublin. 

The  fashionable  circles  enjoyed  recitals  which  contained 
the  names  of  so  many  of  their  own  set ;  the  less  distinguished 
were  pleased  with  even  such  passing  peeps  at  a  world  from 
which  they  were  excluded ;  and  thus  the  discussion  very 
soon  usurped  the  place  of  all  other  subjects  in  public 
interest. 

It  was  remarked  throughout  the  controversy  that  the 
weight  of  authority  lay  all  with  the  Castle  press.  Whatever 
bore  the  stamp  of  real  information  was  on  that  side ;  and  the 
national  journals  were  left  merely  to  guess  and  surmise, 
while  their  opponents  made  distinct  assertions.     At  last,  to 


POLITICS  AND  NEWSPAPERS.  119 

the  astonishment  of  the  town,  appeared  a  letter  in  "  Falk- 
ner's  Journal "  from  Curtis.  He  had  been  ill  of  the  gout ; 
and,  as  it  seemed,  had  only  become  aware  of  the  polemic  the 
preceding  day.  Indeed,  the  tone  of  the  epistle  showed  that 
the  irritability  consequent  on  his  malady  was  still  over  him. 
After  a  brief  explanation  of  his  silence,  he  went  on  thus  : 

"  The  Castle  hacks  have  asked,  Why  and  how  did  Curtis  take 
his  leave  of  Castle  Carew  ?  Now,  without  inquiring  by  what  right 
these  low  scullions  presume  to  put  such  a  question,  I  '11  tell  them : 
Curtis  left  when  he  discovered  the  company  by  whom  he  was 
surrounded  ;  when  he  found  that  he  should  sit  down  at  the  same 
table  with  a  knavish  pack  of  English  adventurers,  bankrupt  in 
character,  and  beggars  in  pocket. 

"  When  he  saw  the  house  where  his  oldest  friend  in  the  world 
was  wont  to  gather  round  him  all  that  was  eminently  Irish,  and 
where  a  generous  hospitality  developed  a  hearty  and  noble  conviv- 
iality, converted  into  a  den  of  scheming  and  intriguing  politicians, 
seeking  to  snare  support  by  low  flattery,  or  to  entrap  a  vote,  in  the 
confidence  of  the  bottle ;  when  he  saw  this,  and  more  than  this,  — 
that  the  best  names  and  the  best  blood  in  the  land  were  slighted, 
in  order  to  show  some  special  and  peculiar  attention  to  vulgar 
wealth  or  still  more  vulgar  pretension,  Curtis  thought  it  high  time 
to  take  his  leave.  This  is  the  why ;  and  as  to  the  how,  he  went 
away  in  the  same  old  conveniency  that  he  arrived  by;  and,  though 
drawn  by  a  sorry  hack,  and  driven  by  a  ragged  Irishman,  he  felt 
prouder  as  he  sat  in  it  than  if  his  place  had  been  beside  a  duke  in 
the  king's  livery,  with  a  coach  paid  for  out  of  the  pockets  of  the 
people. 

"  This  is  the  answer,  therefore,  to  your  correspondent.  And  if 
he  wants  any  further  information,  will  you  tell  him  that  it  will  be 
more  in  accordance  with  the  habits  of  Irish  gentlemen  if  he'll 
address  himself  personally  to  Mr.  Curtis,  12,  Ely  Place,  than  by 
any  appeal  in  the  columns  of  a  newspaper. 

"  And  now,  Mr.  Editor,  a  word  for  yourself  and  the  others.  I 
know  nothing  about  the  habits  of  your  order,  nor  the  etiquette  of 
the  press ;  but  this  I  do  know  :  I  am  a  private  gentleman,  living,  s<  > 
far,  at  least,  as  you  and  the  like  of  you  are  concerned,  out  of  the 
world ;  I  am  very  unlikely  to  fill  a  paragraph  either  among  the 
marriages  or  the  births  ;  and  if  —  mark  me  well,  for  I  am  not  jok- 
ing—  you,  or  any  of  you,  print  my  name  again  in  your  pages, 
except  to  announce  my  decease,  I  will  break  every  bone  in  your 
body ;  and  this  '  without  prejudice,'  as  the  attorneys  say,  to  any 
future  proceedings  I  may  reserve  for  your  correspondent." 


120  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

None  who  knew  Curtis  doubted  for  an  instant  the  authen- 
ticity of  this  letter,  though  many  at  the  time  fancied  it  must 
be  a  queer  quiz  upon  his  style.  The  effect  of  it  was,  how- 
ever, marvellous ;  for,  in  the  most  implicit  confidence  that 
he  meant  to  keep  his  word,  his  name  entirely  dropped  out  of 
the  discussion,  which,  however,  raged  as  violently,  if  not 
more  violently,  than  ever.  Personalities  of  the  most  offen- 
sive kind  were  interchanged  ;  and  the  various  guests  were 
held  up,  with  little  histories  of  their  private  life,  by  the  jour- 
nals of  one  side  or  the  other. 

Up  to  this  moment  my  father's  name  had  never  been  regu- 
larly introduced  into  the  discussion.  Regrets,  it  is  true, 
were  insinuated  that  he  who  could  afford  the  shortest  and 
most  satisfactory  explanations  of  everything  should  not  con- 
descend to  give  the  public  such  information.  It  was  de- 
plored that  one  who  so  long  enjoyed  the  confidence  of  the 
national  party  should  feel  himself  bound  to  maintain  a  silence 
on  questions  which  a  few  words  would  suffice  to  make  intel- 
ligible. Gradually  these  regrets  grew  into  remonstrances, 
and  even  threatened  to  become  reproach.  Anonymous  let- 
ters, in  the  same  spirit,  were  addressed  to  him  in  great  num- 
bers ;  but  they  all  failed  in  their  object,  —  for  the  best  reason, 
that  my  father  saw  none  of  them.  A  feverish  cold,  attended 
with  some  return  of  an  old  gout  attack,  had  confined  him  to 
bed  for  some  weeks,  so  that  he  had  never  heard  of  the  con- 
troversy ;  all  the  newspapers,  filled  as  they  were  with  it, 
having  been  cautiously  withheld  from  him  by  the  careful 
watchfulness  of  MacNaghten. 

Such  was  the  state  of  matters  as  my  father,  still  weak 
from  his  attack,  descended,  for  the  first  time,  to  the  draw- 
ing-room. MacNaghten  had  persuaded  my  mother  to  ac- 
company him  on  a  short  drive  through  the  grounds,  when 
my  father,  whom  they  had  left  in  his  room,  thought  he  would 
make  an  effort  to  get  downstairs,  and  surprise  them  on  their 
return.  He  was  seated  at  an  open  window  that  looked  out 
upon  a  flower-garden,  enjoying,  with  all  an  invalid's  relish, 
the  balmy  air  of  a  summer's  day,  and  feeling  as  if  he  drank  in 
health  at  every  stir  of  the  leaves  by  the  light  wind.  His  ill- 
ness had  not  only  greatly  debilitated  him,  but  had  even  induced 
a  degree  of  indolent  inaction  very  foreign  to  the  active  habit 


POLITICS  AND  NEWSPAPERS.  121 

of  his  mind  in  health  ;  and  instead  of  experiencing  his  wonted 
curiosity  to  know  what  the  world  had  been  doing  during  his 
illness,  he  was  actually  happy  in  the  thought  of  the  perfect 
repose  he  was  enjoying,  undisturbed  by  a  single  care.  The 
rattling  of  wheels  on  the  ground  at  last  gave  token  of  some 
one  coming,  and  a  few  moments  after,  my  father  heard  the 
sound  of  voices  in  the  hall.  Resolved  to  deny  himself  to  all 
strangers,  he  had  risen  to  reach  the  bell,  when  the  door 
opened,  and  Rutledge  entered. 

"  Why,  they  told  me  you  were  in  bed,  Carew,"  cried  he, 
endeavoring  by  a  half-jocular  manner  to  conceal  the  shock 
my  father's  wasted  appearance  imparted.  "  They  said  I 
could  not  possibly  see  you,  so  that  I  had  to  send  up  a  few 
lines  on  my  card  to  say  how  urgently  I  wished  it,  and 
meanwhile  came  in  to  await  your  answer." 

"  They  only  said  truly,"  muttered  my  father.  "I  have 
crept  down  to-day  for  the  first  time,  and  I  'm  not  quite  sure 
that  I  have  done  prudently." 

"  What  has  it  been ?  —  gout  —  rheumatic  fever?  " 

"  Neither;  a  bad  cold  neglected,  and  then  an  old  ague  on 
the  back  of  it." 

"  And  of  course  the  fellows  have  bled  and  blistered  you, 
without  mercy.  My  medical  skill  is  borrowed  from  the 
stable :  hot  mashes  and  double  body-clothes  are  generally 
enough  for  a  common  attack.  But  rich  fellows  like  you 
cannot  get  off  so  cheaply.     And  madam  —  how  is  she?  " 

"  Perfectly  well,  thank  you.  And  how  are  all  your 
friends?" 

"As  well  as  men  can  be  who  are  worried  and  badgered 
every  hour  of  the  twenty-four.  It 's  no  use  in  sending 
Englishmen  here,  they  are  never  trusted !  I  don't  believe 
it 's  possible  to  find  an  honester  man,  nor  a  truer  friend  to 
Ireland,  than  Portland;  but  his  Saxon  blood  is  quite  enough 
to  mar  his  utility  and  poison  every  effort  he  makes  to  be  of 
service." 

"The  children  are  paying  off  the  scores  of  their  fathers, 
Rutledge.  The  sentiment  that  has  taken  some  centuries  to 
mature,  can  scarcely  be  treated  like  a  mere  prejudice." 

"Very  true;  but  what  bad  policy  it  is  —  as  policy  —  to 
obstruct  the  flow  of  concessions,  even  coming  from  a  sus- 


122  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

pected  channel.  It 's  rather  too  hard  to  criticise  them  for 
doing  the  very  things  we  ask  them." 

"  I  have  not  looked  into  a  newspaper  these  few  weeks," 
said  my  father,  half  wearied  of  the  theme. 

"  So  that  you  know  nothing,  then,  of  — "  He  stopped 
short,  for  he  just  caught  himself  in  time. 

"I  know  nothing  whatever  of  the  events  that  have  oc- 
curred in  that  interval ;  and  —  however  inglorious  the  con- 
fession, Rutledge,  I  must  make  it  —  I  'd  almost  as  soon  live 
over  my  attack  again  as  hear  them.  Take  it  as  a  sick  man's 
peevishness  or  sound  philosophy,  as  you  may ;  but,  in  the 
jarring,  squabbling  world  we  live  in,  there  's  nothing  so  good 
as  to  let  bygones  be  bygones." 

"  That's  taking  for  granted  that  anything  is  ever  a  'by- 
gone,' Walter ;  but,  faith,  my  experience  says  that  we  are 
feeling,  to  the  end  of  centuries,  the  results  of  the  petty 
mischances  that  befell  us  in  the  beginning  of  them." 

My  father  sighed,  but  it  was  more  in  weariness  than 
sorrow ;  and  Rutledge  said,  — 

"  I  came  out  to  have  a  long  chat  with  you,  Walter,  about 
various  things ;  but  I  fear  talking  fatigues  you." 

"It  does  fatigue  me,  —  I'm  not  equal  to  it,"  said  my 
father,  faintly. 

"  It 's  unlucky  too,"  said  the  other,  half  peevishly,  "  one 
so  seldom  can  catch  you  alone ;  and  though  MacNaghten 
is  the  best  fellow  in  the  world  —  " 

' '  You  must  still  say  nothing  against  him,  at  least  in  my 
hearing,"  added  my  father,  as  if  to  finish  the  sentence  for 
him. 

"  I  was  only  going  to  observe  that  in  all  that  regards 
politics  —  " 

"  Pardon  my  interrupting  you  again,"  broke  in  my  father, 
"  but  Dan  never  pretended  to  know  anything  about  them ; 
nor  is  it  likely  that  a  fellow  that  felt  the  turf  a  contamina- 
tion will  try  to  cultivate  his  morals  by  the  intrigues  of 
party." 

Rutledge  affected  to  laugh  at  the  sneering  remark,  and 
after  a  moment  resumed,  — 

"Do  you  know,  then,  it  was  precisely  about  that  very 
subject  of  politics  I  came  out  to  talk  with  you  to-day.     The 


POLITICS  AND  NEWSPAPERS.  123 

Duke  told  me  of  the  generous  way  you  expressed  yourself 
to  him  during  his  visit  here,  aud  that  although  not 
abating  anything  of  your  attachment  to  what  you  feel  a 
national  cause,  you  never  would  tie  yourself  hand  and  foot 
to  party,  but  stand  free  to  use  your  influence  at  the  dictates 
of  your  own  honest  conviction.  Now,  although  there  is 
no  very  important  question  at  issue,  there  are  a  number  of 
petty,  irritating  topics  kept  continually  before  Parliament 
by  the  Irish  party,  which,  without  the  slightest  pretension 
to  utility,  are  used  as  means  of  harassing  and  annoying  the 
Government." 

"  I  never  heard  of  this  before,  Rutledge ;  but  I  know  well, 
if  the  measures  you  speak  of  have  Grattan  and  Flood  aud 
Ponsonby,  and  others  of  the  same  stamp,  to  support  them, 
they  are  neither  frivolous  nor  contemptible ;  and  if  they  be 
not  advocated  by  the  leaders  of  the  Irish  party,  you  can 
afford  to  treat  them  with  better  temper." 

"Be  that  as  it  may,  Walter,  the  good  men  of  the  party 
do  not  side  with  these  fellows.  But  I  see  all  this  worries 
you,  so  let's  rorget  it!  "  And  so,  taking  a  turn  through  the 
room,  he  stopped  opposite  a  racing  print,  and  said:  "  Poor 
old  Gadfly,  Low  she  reminds  me  of  old  times !  going  along 
with  her  head  low,  and  looking  dead-beat  when  she  was  just 
coming  to  her  work.  That  was  the  best  mare  ever  you  had, 
Carew !  " 

"  And  yet  T  lost  heavily  on  her,"  said  my  father,  with  a 
half  sigh. 

"Lost!  Why  the  report  goes  that  you  gained  above 
twenty  thousand  by  her  the  last  year  she  ran." 

"  '  Common  report,'  as  Figaro  says,  '  is  a  common  liar;  ' 
my  losses  were  very  nearly  one-half  more  !  It  was  a  black 
year  in  my  life.  I  began  it  badly  in  Ireland,  and  ended  it 
worse  abroad !  " 

The  eager  curiosity  with  which  Rutledge  listened,  sud- 
denly caught  my  father's  attention,  and  he  stopped  short, 
saying :  ' '  These  are  old  stories  now,  and  scarcely  worth 
remembering.  But  here  comes  my  wife;  she'll  be  glad  to 
see  you,  and  hear  all  the  news  of  the  capital,  for  she  has 
been  leading  a  stupid  life  of  it  these  some  weeks  back." 


124  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

However  uneasy  my  mother  and  MacNaghten  might  have 
been  lest  Rutledge  should  have  alluded  to  the  newspaper 
attacks,  they  were  soon  satisfied  on  that  point,  and  the 
evening  passed  over  pleasantly  in  discussing  the  sayings 
and  doings  of  the  Dublin  world. 

It  was  late  when  Rutledge  rose  to  take  his  leave,  and  my 
father  had  so  far  rallied  by  the  excitement  of  conversation 
that  he  already  felt  himself  restored  to  health ;  and  his  last 
words  to  his  guest  at  parting  were,  — 

"I'll  call  and  see  you,  Rutledge,  before  the  week  is 
over." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

SHOWING    THAT    "  WHAT    IS    CRADLED    IN    SHAME    IS    HEARSED 
IN    SORROW." 

Accustomed  all  his  life  to  the  flattery  which  surrounds  a 
position  of  some  eminence,  my  father  was  not  a  little  piqued 
at  the  coldness  of  his  friends  during  his  illness.  The  in- 
quiries after  him  were  neither  numerous  nor  hearty.  Some 
had  called  once  or  twice  to  ask  how  he  was ;  others  had 
written  brief  excuses  for  their  absence ;  and  many  con- 
tented themselves  with  hearing  that  it  was  a  slight  attack, 
which  a  few  days  would  see  the  end  of.  Perhaps  there  were 
not  many  men  in  the  kingdom  less  given  to  take  umbrage  at 
trifles  than  my  father.  Naturally  disposed  to  take  the  bold 
and  open  line  of  action  in  every  affair  of  life,  he  never 
suspected  the  possibility  of  a  covert  insult ;  and  that  any 
one  could  cherish  ill-feeling  to  another,  without  a  palpable 
avowal  of  hostility,  was  a  thing  above  his  conception.  At 
any  other  time,  therefore,  this  negligence,  or  indifference, 
or  whatever  it  was,  would  not  have  occasioned  him  a  mo- 
ment's unpleasantness.  He  would  have  explained  it  to 
himself  in  a  dozen  ways,  if  it  ever  occurred  to  him  to  require 
explanation.  Now,  however,  he  was  irritable  from  the 
effects  of  a  malady  peculiarly  disposed  to  ruffle  nervous 
susceptibility  ;  while  the  chagrin  of  the  late  Viceregal  visit, 
and  its  abrupt  termination,  was  still  over  him.  There 
are  little  eras  in  the  lives  of  the  best-tempered  men,  when 
everything  is  viewed  in  wrong  and  discordant  colors,  and 
when,  by  a  perverse  ingenuity,  they  seek  out  reasons  for 
their  own  unhappiness  in  events  and  incidents  that  have  no 
possible  bearing  on  the  question.  Having  once  persuaded 
himself  that  his  friends  were  faithless  to  him,  he  set  about 
accounting  for  it  by  every  casuistry  he  could  think  of.       1 


126  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

have  lived  too  long  abroad ;  I  have  mixed  too  much  in  the 
great  world,  thought  he,  to  be  able  to  conform  to  this  small 
and  narrow  circle.  I  am  not  local  enough  for  them.  I 
cannot  trade  on  the  petty  prejudices  they  love  to  cherish, 
and  which  they  foolishly  think  means  being  national.  My 
wider  views  of  life  are  a  rebuke  to  their  pettiness ;  and  it 's 
clear  we  do  not  suit  each  other.  To  preserve  my  popularity 
I  should  have  lived  at  home,  and  married  at  home ;  never 
soared  beyond  a  topic  of  Irish  growth,  and  voted  at  the  tail 
of  those  two  or  three  great  men  who  comprise  within  them- 
selves all  that  we  know  of  Irish  independence.  "Even 
idolatry  would  be  dear  at  that  price,"  cried  he,  aloud,  at 
the  end  of  his  reflections,  —  bitter  and  unpleasant  reveries 
in  which  he  had  been  sunk  as  he  travelled  up  to  town  some 
few  days  after  the  events  related  in  the  last  chapter. 

Matters  of  business  with  his  law  agent  had  called  him  to 
the  capital,  where  he  expected  to  be  detained  for  a  day  or 
two.  My  mother  had  not  accompanied  him,  her  state  of 
health  at  the  time  requiring  rest  and  quietude.  Alone,  an 
invalid,  and  in  a  frame  of,  to  him,  unusual  depression,  he 
arrived  at  his  hotel  at  nightfall.  It  was  not  the  "  Drogheda 
Arms,"  where  he  stopped  habitually,  but  the  "  Clare,"  a 
smaller  and  less  frequented  house  in  the  same  street, 
and  where  he  hoped  to  avoid  meeting  with  his  ordinary 
acquaintances. 

Vexed  with  everything,  even  to  the  climate,  to  which  he 
wrongfully  ascribed  the  return  of  his  malady,  he  was  bent 
on  making  immediate  arrangements  to  leave  Ireland,  and 
forever.  His  pecuniary  affairs  were,  it  is  true,  in  a  condition 
of  great  difficulty  and  embarrassment ;  still,  with  every 
deduction,  a  very  large  income,  or  at  least  what  for  the 
Continent  would  be  thought  so,  would  remain ;  and  with  this 
he  determined  to  go  abroad  and  seek  out  some  spot  more 
congenial  to  his  tastes  and  likings,  and,  as  he  also  fancied, 
more  favorable  to  his  health. 

The  hotel  was  almost  full,  and  my  father  with  difficulty 
obtained  a  couple  of  rooms ;  and  even  for  these  he  was 
obliged  to  await  the  departure  of  the  occupant,  which  he  was 
assured  would  take  place  immediately.  In  the  mean  while, 
he  had  ordered  his  supper  in  the  coffee-room,  where  now  he 


SHAME  AND   SORROW.  127 

was  seated,  in  one  of  those  gloomy  looking  stalls  which  in 
those  times  were  supposed  to  comprise  all  that  could  be 
desired  of  comfort  and  isolation. 

It  was,  indeed,  a  new  thing  for  him  to  find  himself  thus, 
—  he,  the  rich,  the  flattered,  the  high-spirited,  the  centre 
of  so  much  worship  and  adulation,  whose  word  was  law 
upon  the  turf,  and  whose  caprices  gave  the  tone  to  fashion, 
the  solitary  occupant  of  a  dimly  lighted  division  in  a  public 
coffee-room,  undistinguished  and  unknown.  There  was 
something  in  the  abrupt  indifference  of  the  waiter  that  actu- 
ally pleased  him,  ministering,  as  it  did,  to  the  self-tormentings 
of  his  reflections.  All  seemed  to  say,  "This  is  what  you 
become  when  stripped  of  the  accidents  of  wealth  and 
fortune,  — these  are  your  real  claims."  There  was  no 
deference  to  him  there.  He  had  asked  for  the  newspaper, 
and  been  curtly  informed  "  that  '  Falkner'  was  engaged  by 
the  gentleman  in  the  next  box ;  "  so  was  he  left  to  his  own 
lucubrations,  broken  iu  upon  only  by  the  drowsy,  monoto- 
nous tone  of  his  neighbor  in  the  adjoining  stall,  who  was 
reading  out  the  paper  to  a  friend.  Either  the  reader  had 
warmed  into  a  more  distinct  elocution,  or  my  father's  ears 
had  become  more  susceptible  by  habit,  but  at  length  he 
found  himself  enabled  to  overhear  the  contents  of  the 
journal,  which  seemed  to  be  a  rather  flippant  criticism  on 
a  late  debate  in  the  Irish  House  of  Commons. 

A  motion  had  been  made  by  the  Member  for  Cavan  for 
leave  to  bring  in  a  bill  to  build  ships  of  war  for  Ireland,  —  a 
proposition  so  palpably  declaring  a  separate  and  independent 
nationality  that  it  not  only  incurred  the  direct  opposition  of 
Government,  but  actually  met  with  the  disapprobation  of 
the  chief  men  of  the  Liberal  party,  who  saw  all  the  injury 
that  must  accrue  to  just  and  reasonable  demands,  by  a  course 
of  policy  thus  exaggerated.  "Falkner"  went  even  further; 
for  he  alleged  that  the  motion  was  a  trick  of  the  Castle  party, 
who  were  delighted  to  see  the  patriots  hastening  their  own 
destruction,  by  a  line  of  action  little  short  of  treason.  The 
arguments  of  the  journalist  in  support  of  this  view  were 
numerous  and  acute.  He  alleged  the  utter  impossibility  of 
the  measure  ever  being  accepted  by  the  House,  or  sanc- 
.  tioned  by  the  Crown.  He  showed  its  insufficiency  for  the 
objects  proposed,  were  it  even  to  become  law ;  and,  lastly, 


128  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

he  proceeded  to  display  all  the  advantages  the  Government 
might  derive  from  every  passing  source  of  disunion  amongst 
the  Irish  party,  —  schisms  which,  however  insignificant  at 
first,  were  daily  widening  into  fatal  breaches  of  all  confi- 
dence. His  last  argument  was  based  on  the  fact  that  had 
the  Ministry  anticipated  any  serious  trouble  by  the  discussion, 
they  would  never  have  displayed  such  utter  indifference  about 
mustering  their  forces.  "  We  saw  not,"  said  the  writer, 
"  the  accustomed  names  of  Townley,  Tisdale,  Loftus,  Skef- 
fington,  and  fifty  more  such,  on  the  division.  Old  Roach 
did  n't  whistle  up  one  of  his  pack,  but  hunted  down  the  game 
with  the  fat  poodles  that  waddle  after  the  Viceroy  through 
the  Castle-yard." 

"  M'Cleary  had  a  caricature  of  the  Portland  hunt  this 
morning  in  his  window,"  cried  the  listener;  "and  capital 
likenesses  there  are  of  Bob  Uniack  and  Vandeleur.  Morris, 
too,  is  represented  by  a  lame  dog  that  stands  on  a  little 
eminence  and  barks  vigorously,  but  makes  no  effort  to  follow 
the  chase." 

"  Much  they  care  for  all  the  ridicule  and  all  the  obloquy 
you  can  throw  on  them,"  replied  the  reader.  "They  well 
know  that  the  pensions  and  peerages  that  await  them  will 
survive  newspaper  abuse,  though  every  word  of  it  was  true 
as  Gospel.  Now,  here's  a  list  of  them  alphabetically  ar- 
ranged ;  and  will  you  tell  me  how  many  will  read  or  remember 
one  line  of  them  a  dozen  years  hence?  Besides,  there  is  a 
kind  of  exaggeration  in  these  attacks  that  deprives  them  of 
credit ;  when  you  read  such  stories  as  that  of  Carew,  for 
instance,  throwing  a  main  with  the  dice  to  decide  whether  or 
not  he'd  vote  with  the  Government." 

"  I  would  not  say  that  it  was  impossible,  however,"  broke 
in  the  other.  "  Carew 's  a  confirmed  gambler,  and  we  know 
what  that  means  ;  and  as  to  his  having  a  particle  of  principle, 
if  Rutledge's  story  be  true,  he  has  done  far  worse  than  this." 

My  father  tried  to  arise  from  his  seat ;  he  even  attempted 
to  call  out,  and  impose  silence  on  those  whose  next  words 
might  possibly  contain  an  insult  irreparable  forever :  but  he 
could  not  do  either;  a  cold  sweat  broke  over  him,  and  he  sat 
powerless  and  almost  fainting,  while  they  continued :  — 

"  I'd  be  slow  to  take  Master  Bob's  word,  either  in  praise 
or  dispraise  of  any  man,"  said  the  first  speaker. 


SHAME  AND   SORROW.  129 

"  So  should  I,  if  he  could  make  it  the  subject  of  a  wager," 
said  the  other ;  ' '  but  here  is  a  case  quite  removed  from  all 
chance  of  the  betting-ring." 

"And  what  does  it  amount  to,  if  true?"  said  the  other. 
"  He  married  somebody's  illegitimate  daughter.  Look  at 
the  peerage ;  look  at  one  half  the  small  sovereignties  of 
Europe." 

"That's  not  the  worst  of  it  at  all,"  broke  in  the  former. 
"  It  was  the  way  he  got  his  wife." 

"  Then  I  suppose  I  have  not  heard  the  story  aright. 
How  was  it?  " 

"  Rutledge's  version  is  something  in  this  wise  :  Carew  had 
won  such  enormous  sums  at  play  from  one  of  the  French 
princes  that  at  last  he  actually  held  in  his  hands  some  of 
the  rarest  of  the  crown  jewels  as  pledges.  One  of  the 
ministers,  having  heard  of  the  transaction,  went  to  the  prince 
and  insisted,  under  threat  of  a  public  exposure,  on  an  im- 
mediate settlement  of  the  debt.  In  this  terrible  dilemma,  the 
prince  had  nothing  for  it  but  to  offer  Carew  the  valuable 
paintings  and  furniture  of  his  chateau,  —  reputed  to  be  the 
most  costly  in  the  whole  kingdom.  The  report  goes  that  the 
pictures  alone  were  estimated  at  several  millions  of  francs. 
Carew  at  once  accepts  the  proposition  ;  but,  as  if  not  to  be 
outdone  in  generosity,  even  by  a  royal  prince,  he  lets  it  be 
known  that  he  will  only  accept  of  one  solitary  article  from 
the  whole  collection,  —  rather,  in  fact,  a  souvenir  than  a  ran- 
som. I  suppose  the  prince,  like  everybody  else,  felt  that 
this  was  very  handsome  conduct,  for  he  frankly  said : 
'  The  chateau  and  all  within  it  are  at  his  disposal ;  I 
reserve  nothing.'  Armed  with  this  authority,  Carew  never 
waits  for  morning,  but  starts  that  night,  by  post,  for 
Auvergne,  where  the  chateau  lies.  I  believe  it  is  not  ascer- 
tained whether  he  was  previously  acquainted  with  the  circum- 
stances of  the  prince's  domestic  affairs.  The  probability, 
however,  is  that  he  must  have  been  ;  for  within  a  week  he 
returned  to  Paris,  bringing  with  him  the  object  selected  as 
his  choice,  in  the  person  of  a  beautiful  girl,  the  natural 
daughter  of  his  Royal  Highness.  Whether  he  married  her 
then  under  compulsion,  or  subsequently  of  his  own  free  will, 
is  to  this  day  a  secret.     One  thing,  however,  is  certain :  he 

9 


130  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

was  banished  from  the  French  territory  by  a  summary 
order,  which  gave  him  barely  time  to  reach  the  coast  and 
embark.  Of  course,  once  in  England,  he  had  only  to  select 
some  secluded,  out-of-the-way  spot  for  a  while,  and  there 
could  be  no  likelihood  of  leaving  any  trace  to  his  adventure. 
Indeed,  the  chances  are  that  Rutledge  is  about  the  only 
man  who  could  have  unravelled  so  tangled  a  skein.  How 
he  ever  contrived  to  do  so,  is  more  than  I  can  tell  you !  " 

My  father  sat  listening  to  this  story  more  like  one  whose 
faculties  are  under  the  dominion  of  some  powerful  spell,  than 
of  a  man  in  the  free  exercise  of  reason.  There  was  some- 
thing in  the  mingled  truth  and  falsehood  of  the  tale  that 
terrified  and  confused  him.  Up  to  that  moment  he  had  no 
notion  in  what  a  light  his  conduct  could  be  exhibited,  nor 
could  he  see  by  what  means  the  calumny  could  be  resented. 
There  was,  however,  one  name  he  could  fix  upon.  Rutledge 
at  least  should  be  accountable  !  There  was  enough  of  false- 
hood in  the  story  to  brand  him  as  a  foul  slanderer,  and  he 
should  not  escape  him. 

By  an  effort  that  demanded  all  his  strength  my  father 
rose,  the  cold  sweat  dropping  from  his  forehead,  and  every 
limb  trembling,  from  weakness  and  passion.  His  object  was 
to  present  himself  to  the  strangers  in  the  adjoining  box,  and, 
by  declaring  his  name,  to  compel  them  to  bring  home  to 
Rutledge  the  accusation  he  had  overheard.  He  had  no  time, 
had  he  even  head,  to  weigh  all  the  difficulties  of  such  a  line 
of  procedure.  It  was  not  at  such  a  moment  that  he  could 
consider  the  question  calmly  and  deliberately.  Next  to  the 
poignant  sense  of  injury,  the  thought  of  vengeance  was 
uppermost  in  his  mind ;  and  the  chances  were  that  he  was 
ready  to  wreak  his  fury  on  the  first  object  that  should  pre- 
sent itself.  Fortunately,  —  might  I  not  rather  say  unfortu- 
nately, since  nothing  could  be  more  disastrous  than  the  turn 
affairs  were  fated  to  take  ;  it  seemed,  however,  at  the  moment, 
as  though  it  were  good  fortune  that  when  my  father  by  an 
immense  effort  succeeded  in  reaching  the  adjoining  box,  the 
former  occupants  had  departed.  Several  persons  were  leav- 
ing the  coffee-room  at  the  same  instant ;  and  though  my 
father  tried  to  hasten  after  them,  and  endeavor  to  recognize 
the  voices  he  had  overheard,  his  strength  was  unequal  to  the 


SHAME  AND  SORROW.  131 

effort,  and  he  sank  back  powerless  on  a  bench.  He  beck- 
oned to  a  waiter  who  was  passing,  and  questioned  him 
eagerly  as  to  their  names,  and,  giving  him  a  guinea,  promised 
as  much  more  if  he  should  follow  them  to  their  residences 
and  bring  back  their  addresses.  But  the  man  soon  returned 
to  say  that  as  the  strangers  were  not  remarked  by  him,  he 
had  no  clew  whatever  to  their  detection  in  the  crowded  streets 
of  the  capital. 

It  struck  my  father  as  though  destiny  itself  pointed  out 
Rutledge  as  the  only  one  of  whom  he  could  seek  reparation ; 
and  now  he  retired  to  his  room  to  weigh  the  whole  question 
in  his  mind,  and  see  by  what  means,  while  gratifying  his 
thirst  for  vengeance,  he  should  best  avoid  that  degree  of 
exposure  which  would  be  fatal  to  the  future  happiness  of 
my  mother. 

In  this  lay  all  the  difficulty.  To  demand  satisfaction  from 
Rutledge  required  that  he  should  specify  the  nature  of  the 
injury,  open  the  whole  history  of  the  slander,  and,  while 
giving  contradiction  to  all  that  was  false,  publish  to  the 
world  a  true  version  of  an  incident  that,  up  to  that  moment, 
he  had  never  confided  to  his  dearest  friend.  Terrible  as 
seemed  the  task  of  such  a  revelation,  it  was  nothing  in  com- 
parison with  what  he  judged  would  be  the  effect  upon  my 
mother  when  she  came  to  learn  the  course  of  events  which 
preceded  her  marriage. 

And  now  this  must  be  given  to  the  world,  with  all  that 
accompaniment  of  gossip  and  scandal  such  a  story  would  be 
sure  to  evoke.  Was  this  possible?  —  could  he  venture  to  em- 
bark upon  such  a  sea  of  peril  as  this  ?  —  could  he  dare  to 
confront  difficulties  that  would  rise  up  against  him  at  every 
step  and  in  every  relation  of  life,  to  assail  his  political  repu- 
tation to-day  —  to  slur  his  personal  honor  to-morrow  —  to 
cast  shame  upon  her  whose  fair  fame  was  dearer  to  him  than 
life  itself  twice  told  —  to  be  an  inheritance  of  disgrace  to  his 
children,  if  he  were  to  have  children?  No,  no!  For  such 
an  exposure  as  this  nothing  short  of  downright  desperation 
could  give  courage. 

Far  from  serving  to  allay  his  passion  for  vengeance,  these 
difficulties  but  deepened  the  channel  of  his  wrath,  and  made 
the  injury  itself  appear  more  irreparable.     Nor  did  he  know 


132  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

whom  to  consult  at  such  a  crisis.  To  unbosom  himself  to 
MacNaghten  was  like  confessiug  that  he  could  do,  from 
personal  motives,  what  he  had  shrunk  from  in  the  full  con- 
fidence of  his  friendship ;  and  such  an  avowal  would,  he  was 
well  aware,  give  heartfelt  pain  to  his  best  friend  in  the  world. 
Man}7  other  names  occurred  to  him,  but  each  was  accom- 
panied by  some  especial  difficulty.  It  was  a  case  which  de- 
manded great  discretion,  and  at  the  same  time  promptitude 
and  decision.  To  have  allowed  any  interval  for  discussion 
would  have  been  to  incur  that  publicity  which  my  father 
dreaded  beyond  all. 

The  indignant  energy  of  his  mind  had  given  a  kind  of 
power  to  his  emaciated  and  wasted  frame ;  and  as  he  paced 
his  room  in  passionate  emotion,  he  felt  as  though  all  his 
wonted  strength  and  vigor  were  returning  to  "  stand  by  him" 
in  his  hour  of  peril.  He  had  opened  his  window  to  admit 
the  cool  air  of  the  night ;  and  scarcely  had  he  thrown  wide 
the  sash  when  the  cry  of  a  newsvendor  met  his  ear. 

"  Here's  the  '  List  of  the  Castle  hacks,'  to  be  sold  to  the 
highest  bidder,  the  Government  having  no  further  use  for 
them ;  with  the  pedigree  and  performances  set  forth  in  full, 
and  a  correct  account  of  the  sums  paid  for  each  of  them." 

To  this  succeeded  a  long  catalogue  of  gentlemen's  names, 
which  were  received  by  the  mob  that  followed  the  hawker, 
with  shouts  and  cries  of  derision.  Groan  followed  groan  as 
they  were  announced,  and  my  father  listened  with  an  agoni- 
zing suspense  lest  he  should  hear  his  own  amidst  the  num- 
ber ;  but,  to  his  inexpressible  relief,  the  fellow  concluded  his 
muster-roll  without  alluding  to  him.  Just,  however,  as  he 
was  about  to  close  the  window,  the  man  again  broke  out 
with:  "On  Saturday  next  will  be  published  the  account  of 
the  five  bought  in  by  the  Crown;  and  Mark  Brown,  Sam 
Vesey,  William  Burton,  Ross  Mahon,  and  Walter  Carew 
will  be  given  in  full,  on  a  separate  sheet,  for  one  half- 
penny !  " 

A  wild  outburst  of  derisive  laughter  from  the  crowd 
followed,  and  my  father  heard  no  more. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

A     MIDNIGHT     RENCONTRE. 

Mr  father  had  walked  several  streets  of  the  capital  before 
he  could  collect  his  thoughts,  or  eveu  remember  where  he 
was.  He  went  along,  lost  to  everything  save  memory  of  his 
vengeance.  He  tried  to  call  to  mind  the  names  of  those  on 
whose  zeal  and  devotedness  he  could  reckon ;  but  so  imbued 
with  suspicion  had  his  mind  become,  so  distrustful  of  every 
thing  and  every  one,  that  he  actually  felt  as  if  deserted  by 
all  the  world,  without  one  to  succor   or  stand  by  him. 

Thus  rambling  by  chance,  he  found  himself  in  Stephen's 
Green,  where  he  sat  down  to  rest  under  one  of  those  great 
trees  which  in  those  times  shaded  the  favorite  promenade  of 
Dublin.  Directly  in  front  of  him  was  a  large  mansion,  bril- 
liantly lighted  up,  and  crowded  by  a  numerous  company, 
many  of  whom  were  enjoying  the  balmy  air  of  a  summer's 
night  on  the  balcony  in  front  of  the  windows.  As  they 
moved  to  and  fro,  passing  back  and  forwards,  my  father 
could  recognize  several  that  he  was  acquainted  with,  and 
some  that  he  knew  most  intimately. 

Filled  with  one  consuming  thought,  he  fancied  that  he 
heard  his  name  at  every  moment ;  that  every  allusion  was  to 
him,  and  each  burst  of  laughter  was  uttered  in  derision  at 
his  cost.  His  rage  had  worked  him  up  almost  to  madness, 
and  he  could  hardly  restrain  himself  from  calling  out,  and 
replying  aloud  to  these  fancied  insults  and  aspersions  on  his 
character. 

At  such  moments  of  doubt  as  these,  certainty  flashes  on 
the  mind  with  a  power  of  concentration  and  resolution  that 
seems  to  confer  strength  for  anything,  however  difficult.  So 
was  it  to  my  father  as  suddenly  the  tones  of  a  well-known 
voice  struck  on  his  ear,  and  he  heard  the  easy  laugh  of  him 


134  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

that  he  hated  most  of  all  the  world.  It  was  Barry  Rutledge 
himself,  who  now  was  leaning  over  the  balcony,  in  the  centre 
of  a  group  whom  he  was  evidently  entertaining  by  his 
remarks. 

The  bursts  of  laughter  which  at  each  moment  interrupted 
him,  showed  how  successfully  his  powers  of  entertaining 
were  being  exercised,  while  at  intervals  a  dead  silence  around 
proved  the  deep  attention  with  which  they  listened. 

It  was  at  the  moment  when,  by  the  death  of  the  Marquis 
of  Rockingham,  a  new  Ministry  was  formed  in  England,  and 
the  Duke  of  Portland  recalled  from  his  viceroyalty,  to  be 
succeeded  by  Lord  Temple.  The  changes  that  were  like  to 
ensue  upon  this  new  appointment  were  actively  discussed  in 
society,  and  now  formed  the  subject  of  conversation  on  the 
balcony. 

"You  will  be  at  large  again,  Barry,"  said  one  of  the 
group;   "these  new  people  won't  know  your  value." 

"Pardon  me!"  cried  he,  laughing,  "I'm  handed  over 
with  Cotterell  and  the  state  coach,  as  functionaries  that  can- 
not be  easily  replaced.  Let  them  try  and  manage  Dublin 
without  me !  I  defy  them !  Who  knows  every  flaw  and 
crack  of  reputation,  every  damaged  character,  and  every 
tarnished  fame,  as  I  do?  Who  can  tell  each  man's  price, 
from  knowing  his  weak  points  ?  Who  can  play  off  the  petty 
jealousies  of  rivals  against  each  other ;  disgust  them  with 
their  party  ;  and  buy  them  cheap  for  the  Castle  ?  Who  but 
Barry  Rutledge  ?  I  '11  offer  a  wager  of  five  hundred  that 
there  is  not  a  family  secret  I  can't  have  the  key  to  within 
one  week." 

"  What  the  devil  ever  induced  you  to  take  up  such  a  career  ?  " 
asked  a  deep-voiced,  burly-looking  country  gentleman. 

"  The  turf  gave  me  the  hint,"  said  Rutledge,  coolly.  "  I 
lost  every  sixpence  I  once  possessed,  when  I  backed  this 
horse,  or  betted  on  that  one.  I  regained  a  considerable 
share  of  my  loss  when  I  limited  myself  to  looking  out  for 
what  they  style  '  disqualifications,'  —  to  discover  that  Wasp 
was  n't  a  two-year-old,  or  that  Muffin  was  clean  bred ;  that 
Terry  had  won  before,  and  that  Ginger  was  substituted  for 
another.  I  saw  that  political  life  was  pretty  much  the  same 
kind  of  game,  and  that  there  would  be  a  grand  opening  for 


A  MIDNIGHT   RENCONTRE.  135 

the  first  fellow  that  brought  his  racing  craft  to  bear  on  the 
great  world  of  state  affairs.  I  'm  sure  others  will  follow  out 
the  line,  and  doubtless  eclipse  all  the  cleverness  of  Barry 
Rutledge ;  but,  at  all  events,  they  can't  deny  him  the  merit 
of  the  invention.  They  talk  to  you  about  skilful  secretaries 
and  able  debaters :  I  tell  you  flatly  I  've  got  more  votes  for 
the  Government  than  any  one  of  them  all,  and  just  in  the 
way  I  've  mentioned.  Was  it  Dick  Talbot's  convictions,  or  his 
wife's  losses  at  loo  that  made  him  join  us  last  session?  How 
did  Rowley  come  over?  Ask  Harvey  Bruce  who  horse- 
whipped him  in  the  mess-room  at  Kells.  Why  did  Billy 
Hamilton  desert  his  party?  Lady  Mary  may  tell  you ;  and 
if  she  won't,  George  Gordon,  of  the  Highlanders,  can. 
What 's  the  use  of  going  through  the  list,  from  old  Hemphill, 
that  was  caught  cheating  at  piquet,  down  to  Watty  Carew, 
with  his  wife  won  at  a  game  of  Barocco?" 

"  Slanderer  —  scoundrel !  "  cried  out  my  father,  in  a  voice 
hoarse  with  passion  ;  and  as  the  words  were  uttered,  the 
balcony  was  suddenly  deserted,  and  the  rushing  sounds  of 
many  people  descending  the  stairs  together  were  as  quickly 
heard.  For  a  few  seconds  my  father  stood  uncertain  and 
undecided  ;  but  then,  with  a  bold  precipitancy,  he  seemed  to 
calculate  every  issue  in  an  instant,  and  made  up  his  mind 
how  to  proceed.  He  dashed  across  the  street  towards  the 
dark  alley  which  flanked  the  "  Green,"  and  along  which  ran 
a  deep  and  stagnant  ditch,  of  some  ten  or  twelve  feet  in 
width.  Scarcely  had  he  gained  the  shelter  of  the  trees,  when 
a  number  of  persons  rushed  from  the  house  into  the  street, 
and  hurried  hither  and  thither  in  pursuit.  As  they  passed 
out,  my  father  was  enabled  to  recognize  several  whom  he 
knew ;  but  for  one  only  had  he  any  care  ;  on  him  he  fastened 
his  eyes  with  the  eager  steadfastness  of  hate,  and  tracked 
him  as  he  went,  regardless  of  all  others. 

Without  concert  among  themselves,  or  any  clew  to  direct 
their  search,  they  separated  in  various  directions.  Still,  my 
father  held  his  place  unchanged,  doubtless  revolving  in  that 
brief  interval  the  terrible  consequences  of  his  act.  Some 
fifteen  or  twenty  minutes  might  have  thus  elapsed,  and  now 
he  saw  one  return  to  the  house,  speedily  followed  by  another, 
and  then  a  third.     At  last  Rutledge  came  alone ;   he  walked 


136  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

along  slowly,  and  as  if  deep  in  meditation.  As  though  re- 
volving the  late  incident  in  his  mind,  he  stood  for  a  moment 
looking  up  at  the  windows,  and  probably  speculating  in  his 
mind  on  the  precise  spot  occupied  by  him  who  had  uttered 
the  insult.. 

"Here,  beneath  the  trees,"  said  my  father,  in  a  low,  but 
clear  accent ;  and  Rutledge  turned,  and  hastened  across  the 
street.  It  will,  of  course,  never  be  known  whether  he  under- 
stood these  words  as  coming  from  a  stranger,  or  from  some 
one  of  his  own  friends,  suggesting  pursuit  in  a  particular 
direction. 

My  father  only  waited  to  see  that  the  other  was  following, 
when  he  turned  and  fled.  The  entrances  to  the  park,  or 
green,  as  it  was  called,  were  by  small  pathways  across  the 
moat,  closed  by  low  wooden  wickets.  Across  one  of  these 
my  father  took  his  way,  tearing  down  the  gate  with  noise 
sufficient  to  show  the  course  he  followed. 

Rutledge  was  close  at  his  heels,  and  already  summoning 
all  his  efforts  to  come  up  with  him,  when  my  father  turned 
round  and  stood. 

"We  are  alone!  "  cried  he;  "  there  is  none  to  interrupt 
us.  Now,  Barry  Rutledge,  you  or  I,  or  both  of  us,  may- 
hap, shall  pass  the  night  here !  "  and,  as  he  spoke,  he  drew 
forth  his  sword-cane  from  the  walking-stick  that  he  carried. 

"What!  is  that  Carew?  Are  you  Walter  Carew?"said 
Rutledge,  advancing  towards  him. 

"  No  nearer,  —  not  a  step  nearer !  — or,  by  Heaven  !  I  '11 
not  answer  for  my  passion.  Draw  your  sword,  and  defend 
yourself  !  " 

"  Why,  this  is  sheer  madness,  Watty.  What  is  your 
quarrel  with  me?" 

"Do  you  ask  me?  —  do  you  want  to  hear  why  I  called 
you  a  scoundrel  and  a  slanderer?  — or  is  it  that  I  can 
brand  you  as  both,  at  noon-day,  and  in  a  crowd,  adding 
coward  to  the  epithets?" 

"  Come,  come,"  said  the  other,  with  a  sarcastic  coolness 
that  only  increased  my  father's  rage.  "You  know,  as  well 
as  any  man,  that  these  things  are  not  done  in  this  fashion. 
I  am  easily  found  when  wanted." 

"  Do  you  think  that  I  will  give  you  another  day  to  pro- 


A  MIDNIGHT   RENCONTRE.  137 

pagate  your  slander  ?  No,  by  Heaven !  not  an  hour !  " 
And  so  saying,  he  rushed  ou,  probably  to  consummate  the 
outrage  by  a  blow.  Rutledge,  who  was  in  full  dress,  now 
drew  his  rapier,  and  the  two  steels  crossed. 

My  father  was  a  consummate  swordsman ;  he  had  fought 
several  times  with  that  weapon  when  abroad ;  and  had  lie 
only  been  guided  by  his  habitual  temper,  nothing  would 
have  been  easier  for  him  than  to  overcome  his  antagonist. 
So  ungovernable,  however,  was  his  passion  now,  that  he 
lost  almost  every  advantage  his  superior  skill  might  have 
conferred. 

As  if  determined  to  kill  his  enemy  at  any  cost,  he  nevei 
stood  on  his  guard,  nor  parried  a  single  thrust,  but  rushed 
wildly  at  him.  Rutledge,  whose  courage  was  equal  to  his 
coolness,  saw  all  the  advantage  this  gave  him ;  and,  after 
a  few  passes,  succeeded  in  running  his  sword  through  my 
father's  chest  so  that  the  point  actually  projected  on  the 
opposite  side.  With  a  sudden  jerk  of  his  body,  my  father 
snapped  the  weapon  in  two,  and  then,  shortening  his  own  to 
within  about  a  foot  of  the  point,  he  ran  Rutledge  through 
the  heart.  One  heavy  groan  followed,  and  he  fell  dead 
upon  his  face. 

My  father  drew  forth  the  fragment  from  his  own  side,  and 
then,  stooping  down,  examined  the  body  of  his  adversary. 
His  recollection  of  what  passed  in  that  terrible  moment  was 
horribly  distinct  ever  after.  He  mentioned  to  him  from 
whom  I  myself  learned  these  details  that  so  diabolical  was 
the  hatred  that  held  possession  of  him  that  he  sat  down  in 
the  grass  beside  the  body,  and  contemplated  it  with  a  kind 
of  fiend-like  exultation.  A  light,  thin  rain  began  to  fall 
soon  after,  and  my  father,  moved  by  some  instinctive  feel- 
ing, threw  Rutledge's  cloak  over  the  lifeless  body,  and  then 
withdrew.  Although  the  pain  of  his  own  wound  was  con- 
siderable, he  soon  perceived  that  no  vital  part  had  been 
injured,  —  indeed,  the  weapon  had  passed  through  the 
muscles  without  ever  having  penetrated  the  cavity  of  the 
chest.  He  succeeded,  by  binding  his  handkerchief  around 
his  waist,  in  stanching  the  blood  ;  and,  although  Aveakened, 
the  terrible  excitement  of  the  event  seemed  to  lend  him  a 
momentary  strength  for  further  exertion. 


138  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

His  first  impulse,  as  he  found  himself  outside  the  Green, 
was  to  deliver  himself  up  to  the  authorities,  making  a  full 
avowal  of  all  that  had  occurred.  To  do  this,  however, 
would  involve  other  consequences  which  he  had  not  the 
courage  to  confront.  Any  narrative  of  the  duel  would 
necessarily  require  a  history  of  the  provocation,  and  thus 
a  wider  publicity  to  that  shame  which  was  now  embittering 
his  existence. 

"Without  ultimately  deciding  what  course  he  should  adopt, 
my  father  determined  to  give  himself  further  time  for  re- 
flection, by  at  once  hastening  back  to  the  country  ere  his 
presence  in  the  capital  was  known.  He  now  returned  to 
the  hotel,  and,  asking  for  his  bill,  informed  the  waiter  that 
if  any  one  inquired  for  Mr.  Cuthbert,  that  he  should  men- 
tion his  address  at  a  certain  number  in  Aungier  Street. 
The  carman  who  drove  him  from  the  door  was  directed  to 
drive  to  the  same  place,  and  there  dismissed.  After  this, 
taking  his  carpet-bag  in  his  hand,  he  walked  leisurely  along 
towards  Ball's  Bridge,  where  already,  as  the  day  was  break- 
ing, a  number  of  vehicles  were  assembled  on  the  stand. 
Affecting  a  wish  to  catch  the  packet  for  England,  he  drove 
hastily  to  the  Pigeon  House ;  but  the  vessel  had  already 
sailed.  It  was  strange  enough  that  he  never  was  able  to 
say  actually  whether  he  meditated  passing  over  to  England, 
or  simply  to  conceal  the  line  of  his  flight.  Thus  uncertain 
whither  to  go  or  what  to  do,  a  considerable  time  was 
passed ;  and  he  was  on  the  point  of  engaging  a  boat  to 
cross  over  to  Howth,  when  a  sudden  thought  struck  him 
that  he  would  drive  direct  to  Fagan's,  in  Mary's  Abbey. 

It  was  about  six  o'clock  of  a  bright  summer's  morning 
as  my  father  alighted  at  Fagan's  door.  "The  Grinder" 
was  already  up,  and  busily  engaged  inspecting  the  details 
of  his  shop ;  for,  however  insignificant  as  a  source  of  gain, 
some  strange  instinct  seemed  to  connect  his  prosperity  with 
the  humble  occupation  of  his  father  and  his  grandfather, 
and  he  appeared  to  think  that  the  obscure  fruit-stall  formed 
a  secret  link  between  their  worldly  successes  and  his  own. 

It  was  with  surprise  not  altogether  devoid  of  shame  that 
he  saw  my  father  descend  from  the  jaunting-car  to  salute 
him. 


A   MIDNIGHT   RENCONTRE.  139 

"  I've  come  to  take  my  breakfast  with  you,  Tony,"  said 
he,  gayly ;  "  and,  determining  to  be  a  man  of  business  for 
once,  I  'm  resolved  to  catch  these  calm  hours  of  the  morning 
that  you  prudent  fellows  make  such  good  use  of!  " 

Fagan  stared  with  astonishment  at  this  sudden  apparition 
of  one  from  whom  he  neither  expected  a  visit  at  such  an 
hour,  much  less  a  speech  of  such  meaning.  He,  however, 
mumbled  out  some  words  of  welcome,  with  a  half-intelli- 
gible compliment  about  my  father's  capacity  being  fully 
equal  to  any  exigencies  or  any  demands  that  might  be  made 
upon  it. 

"  So  they  told  me  at  school,  Tony,  and  so  they  said  in  col- 
lege. They  repeated  the  same  thing  when  I  entered  Parlia- 
ment ;  but,  somehow,  I  have  been  always  a  fellow  of  great 
promise  and  no  performance,  and  I  am  beginning  at  last  to 
suspect  that  I  shall  scarcely  live  to  see  this  wonderful  future 
that  is  to  reveal  me  to  the  world  in  the  plenitude  of  my 
powers !  " 

"  It  will,  then,  be  entirely  your  own  fault,  sir,"  said 
Fagan,  with  an  earnestness  that  showed  the  interest  he  felt 
in  the  subject.  "  Let  me  speak  to  you  seriously,  sir,"  said 
he ;  and  he  led  the  way  into  a  room,  where,  having  seated 
themselves,  he  went  on:  "With  your  name,  and  your 
position,  and  your  abilities,  Mr.  Carew,  —  no  sir,  I  am  too 
deeply  concerned  in  what  I  say  to  be  a  flatterer,  —  there  was 
a  great  and  glorious  career  open  before  you ;  nor  is  the  time 
to  follow  it  gone  by.  Think  what  you  might  be  amongst 
your  countrymen,  by  standing  forward  as  their  champion ! 
Picture  to  yourself  the  place  you  might  hold,  and  the  power 
you  might  wield, — not  a  power  to  depend  upon  the  will  of 
a  minister,  or  the  caprice  of  a  cabinet,  but  a  power  based 
upon  the  affections  of  an  entire  people;  for,  I  say  it  advi- 
sedly, the  leadership  of  the  national  party  is  yet  to  be 
claimed.  Lord  Charlemont  is  too  weak  and  too  ductile  for 
it.  Besides  that,  his  aristocratic  leanings  unfit  him  for 
close  contact  with  the  masses.  Henry  Grattau  has  great 
requisites,  but  he  has  great  deficiencies  too.  The  favor 
that  he  wins  in  the  senate,  he  loses  in  society.  We  want  a 
man  who  shall  speak  for  us  in  public  the  sentiments  that 
fall  from  us  at  our  tallies;  who  shall  assure  the  English 
Government,   and  the   English   nation   too,   that   the   Irish 


140  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

Catholic  is  equal  in  loyalty  as  in  courage,  —  that  his  fealty 
is  not  less  because  his  faith  is  that  of  his  fathers.  It  is 
not  eloquence  we  need,  Mr.  Carew.  Our  cause  does  not 
want  embellishment.  Orators  may  be  required  to  prop  up 
a  weak  or  falling  case.  Ours  can  stand  alone,  without  such 
aid !  An  honest,  a  resolute,  and  an  independent  advocate, 
—  one  whose  ancient  name  on  one  side,  and  whose  genial 
nature  on  the  other,  shall  be  a  link  betwixt  the  people  and 
the  gentry,  —  such  a  man,  whenever  found,  may  take  the 
lead  in  Ireland ;  and,  however  English  ministers  may  dictate 
laws,  he,  and  he  alone,  will  govern  this  country." 

My  father  listened  with  intense  eagerness  to  every  word 
of  this  appeal.  Not  even  the  flattery  to  himself  was  more 
pleasing  than  the  glimpses  he  caught  of  a  great  national 
struggle,  in  which  Ireland  should  come  out  triumphant. 
Such  visions  were  amongst  the  memories  of  his  boyish  en- 
thusiasm, begotten  in  the  wild  orgies  of  a  college  life,  and 
nurtured  amidst  the  excesses  of  many  a  debauch ;  and  al- 
though foreign  travel  and  society  had  obliterated  most  of 
these  impressions,  now  they  came  back  with  tenfold  force, 
in  a  moment  when  his  mind  was  deeply  agitated  and  ex- 
cited. For  an  instant  he  had  been  carried  away  by  this 
enticing  theme ;  he  had  actually  forgotten,  in  his  ardor, 
the  terrible  incident  which  so  lately  he  had  passed  through, 
when  Raper  rushed  hurriedly  into  the  room  where  they 
sat,  exclaiming,  — 

"A  dreadful  murder  has  taken  place  in  the  city.  Mr. 
Rutledge,  of  the  Viceroy's  household,  was  found  dead  this 
morning  in  Stephen's  Green." 

"  Within  the  Green?  "  asked  Fagan.  "  What  could  have 
brought  him  there  after  nightfall?  There  must  have  been 
some  assignation  in  the  case." 

"Do  you  know,  have  you  heard  any  of  the  circumstan- 
ces, sir?  "  asked  my  father. 

"No  further  than  that  he  was  killed  by  a  sword-thrust 
which  passed  completely  through  his  chest.  Some  suspect 
that  he  was  lured  to  the  spot  by  one  pretence  or  other ; 
others  are  of  opinion  that  it  was  a  duel.  Robbery  had 
certainly  nothing  to  say  to  it,  for  his  watch  and  purse  were 
found  on  the  body." 

"  Have  they  taken  the  body  away?  " 


A  MIDNIGHT  RENCONTRE.  141 

"  No,  sir.  It  remains  for  the  coroner's  inquest,  which  is 
to  assemble  immediately." 

"Had  Rutledge  any  political  enemies?  Is  it  supposed 
that  the  event  was  in  any  way  connected  with  party?" 

"That  could  scarcely  be,"  said  Fagan.  "He  was  one 
who  gave  himself  little  concern  about  state  affairs,  —  an  easy 
fop  that  fluttered  about  the  Court,  caring  for  little  above 
the  pleasures  of  his  valueless  existence !  " 

"  For  such  men  you  have  few  sympathies,  Fagan!  " 

"  None,  sir,  not  one.  Their  history  is  ever  the  same, — 
a  life  of  debauch,  a  death  of  violence !  " 

"  This  is  to  speak  hardly,  Fagan,"  said  my  father,  mildly. 
"  Men  like  poor  Rutledge  have  their  good  qualities,  though 
they  be  not  such  as  you  and  I  set  store  by.  I  never  thought 
so  myself,  but  others,  indeed,  deemed  him  a  most  amusing 
companion,  and  with  more  than  an  ordinary  share  of  wit  and 
pleasantry." 

"The  wit  and  pleasantry  were  both  exerted  to  make  his 
friends  ridiculous,  sir,"  said  Fagan,  severely.  "  He  was  a 
man  that  lived  upon  a  reputation  for  smartness,  gained  at 
the  expense  of  every  good  feeling." 

"I'll  wager  a  trifle,  Tony,"  said  my  father,  laughing, 
"  that  he  died  deep  in  your  books.  Come,  be  frank,  and 
say  how  much  this  unhappy  affair  will  cost  you." 

"  Not  so  dearly  as  it  may  you,  sir,"  whispered  Fagan  in 
my  father's  ear ;  and  the  words  nearly  overcame  him. 

"  How  so?  —  what  do  you  mean?  "  muttered  my  father,  in 
a  broken,  faltering  voice. 

"  Come  this  way  for  a  moment,  Mr.  Carew,"  said  the 
other,  aloud,  "  and  I'll  show  you  my  snuggery,  where  I  live, 
apart  from  all  the  world." 

My  father  followed  him  into  a  small  chamber,  where 
Fagan  at  once  closed  the  door  and  locked  it,  and  then, 
approaching  him,  pulled  forth  from  beneath  his  loose  cuff  a 
lace  ruffle  stained  and  clotted  with  blood. 

"  It  is  fortunate  for  you,  Mr.  Carew,"  said  he,  "  thatRaper 
is  so  unobservant ;  any  other  than  he  would  have  seen  this. 
and  this ;  "  and  as  he  spoke  the  last  words,  he  pointed  to  a 
small  portion  of  a  bloody  handkerchief  which  projected  out- 
side the  shirt-frill. 


142  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

So  overwhelmed  was  my  father  by  these  evidences  that  he 
sank  powerless  into  a  chair,  without  strength  to  speak. 

"  How  was  it?  —  how  did  it  occur?  "  asked  Fagan,  sitting 
down  in  front  of  him,  and  placing  one  hand  familiarly  on 
my  father's  knee.  Simple  as  the  action  was,  it  was  a 
liberty  that  he  had  never  dared  before  to  take  with  my 
father,  who  actually  shuddered  at  the  touch,  as  though  it  had 
been  a  pollution. 

"Unpremeditated,  of  course,  I  conclude,"  said  Fagan, 
still  endeavoring  to  lead  him  on  to  some  explanation.  My 
father  nodded. 

"Unwitnessed  also,"  said  Fagan,  slowly.  Another  nod 
implied  assent. 

"Who  knows  of  your  presence  in  Dublin?  —  Who  has 
seen  you  since  your  arrival  in  Dublin?"  asked  he. 

"  None  of  my  acquaintances,  so  far,  at  least,  as  I  know. 
I  went,  by  a  mere  accident,  to  an  hotel  where  I  am  not 
known.  By  another  accident,  if  I  dare  so  call  it,  I  fell 
upon  this  rencontre.  I  will  endeavor  to  tell  you  the  whole, 
as  it  occurred,  —  that  is,  if  I  can  sufficiently  collect  myself; 
but  first  let  me  have  some  wine,  Fagan,  for  I  am  growing 
weak." 

As  Fagan  left  the  room,  he  passed  the  desk  where  Raper 
was  already  seated,  hard  at  work,  and,  laying  his  hand  on 
the  clerk's  shoulder,  he  whispered,  — 

"  Be  cautious  that  you  do  not  mention  Mr.  Carew's  arrival 
here.  There  is  a  writ  out  against  him  for  debt,  and  he  has 
come  up  here  to  be  out  of  the  way." 

Raper  heard  the  words  without  even  discontinuing  to  write, 
and  merely  muttered  a  brief  "  Very  well,"  in  reply. 

When  Fagan  re-entered  the  chamber,  he  found  my  father 
just  rallying  from  a  fainting-fit,  which  loss  of  blood  and 
agitation  together  had  brought  on.  Two  or  three  glasses  of 
wine,  hastily  swallowed,  restored  him,  and  he  was  again  able 
to  converse. 

"  Can  you  be  traced  to  this  house?  Is  there  any  clew  to 
you  here?  "  asked  Fagan,  resuming  his  former  seat. 

"  None,  so  far  as  I  know.     The  affair  occurred  thus  —  " 

"Pardon  my  interrupting  you,"  broke  in  Fagan;  "but 
the  most  important  thing  at  this  moment  is,  to  provide  for 


A  MIDNIGHT   RENCONTRE.  143 

your  safety,  in  the  event  of  any  search  after  you.  Have  you 
any  ground  to  apprehend  this?  " 

"  None  whatever.     You  shall  hear  the  story." 

"They  are  talking  of  it  outside  !  "  whispered  Fagan,  with 
a  gesture  of  his  hand  to  enforce  caution;  "let  us  listen  to 
them."  And  he  slowly  unlocked  the  door,  and  left  it  to 
stand  ajar. 

The  outer  shop  was  by  this  time  filling  with  the  small 
fruit-vendors  of  the  capital,  —  a  class  peculiarly  disposed  to 
collect  and  propagate  the  gossip  of  the  day  ;  and  Fagan  well 
knew  how  much  the  popular  impression  would  depend  upon 
the  coloring  of  their  recital. 

"  'Tis  lucky,"  said  one,  "  that  his  watch  and  money  was 
on  him,  or  they  'd  say  at  once  it  was  the  boys  done  it." 

"  Faix  !  they  could  n't  do  that,"  broke  in  another  ;  "  there 's 
marks  about  the  place  would  soon  contradict  them." 

"  What  marks? " 

' '  The  print  of  an  elegant  boot.  I  saw  it  myself ;  it  is 
small  in  the  heel,  and  sharp  in  the  toe,  —  very  unlike  yours 
or  mine,  Tim." 

"  Begad  !  so  much  the  better,"  said  the  other,  laughing. 

"And  I '11  tell  you  more,"  resumed  the  former  speaker: 
"it  was  a  dress-sword  —  what  they  wear  at  the  Castle  — 
killed  him.  You  could  scarce  see  the  hole.  It's  only  a  little 
blue  spot  between  the  ribs." 

"  Oh,  dear !  oh,  dear !  "  exclaimed  a  woman's  voice ;  "  and 
they  say  he  was  an  elegant,  fine  man  !  " 

"  As  fine  a  figure  of  a  man  as  ever  ye  looked  at !  " 

"  And  nobody  knows  the  reason  of  it  at  all?  "  asked  she 
again. 

"  I  '11  engage  it  was  about  a  woman  !  "  muttered  a  husky, 
old,  cracked  voice,  that  was  constantly  heard,  up  to  this 
moment,  bargaining  for  oranges. 

And  Fagan  quickly  made  a  sign  to  my  father  to  listen 
attentively. 

"That's  Denny  Cassin,"  whispered  he,  "the  greatest 
newsmonger  in  Dublin." 

"The  devil  recave  the  fight  ever  I  heerd  of  hadn't  a 
woman  in  it,  somehow  or  other ;  an'  if  she  did  n't  begin  it, 
she  was  sure  to  come  in  at   the  end,  and  make    it  worse. 


144  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

Was  n't  it  a  woman  that  got  Hemphill  Daly  shot?  Was  n't 
it  a  woman  was  the  death  of  Major  Brown,  of  Coolmines  ? 
Was  n't  it  a  woman  —  " 

"  Arrah!  bother  ye,  Denny!  "  broke  in  the  representative 
of  the  sex,  who  stood  an  impatient  listener  to  this  long  in- 
dictment; "what's  worth  fightin'  for  in  the  world  barrin' 
ourselves  ?  " 

A  scornful  laugh  was  all  the  reply  he  deigned  to  this 
appeal ;  and  he  went  on,  — 

"  I  often  said  what  Barry  Rutledge  'ud  come  to,  —  ay,  and 
I  told  himself  so.  '  You  've  a  bad  tongue,'  says  I,  '  and 
you  've  a  bad  heart.  Some  day  or  other  you  '11  be  found 
out ; '  and  ye  see,  so  he  was." 

"  I  wonder  who  did  it!  "  exclaimed  another. 

"  My  wonder  is,"  resumed  Denny,  "that  it  was  n't  done 
long  ago  ;  or  instead  of  one  wound  in  his  skin,  that  he  had  n't 
fifty.  Do  you  know  that  when  I  used  to  go  up  to  the  officers' 
room  with  oranges,  I  'd  hear  more  wickedness  out  of  his 
mouth  in  one  mornin'  than  I  'd  hear  in  Pill  Lane,  here,  in  a 
month  of  Sundays.  There  was  n't  a  man  dined  at  the  Castle, 
there  was  n't  a  lady  danced  at  the  Coort,  that  he  had  n't 
a  bad  story  about ;  and  he  always  began  by  saying :  '  He 
and  I  were  old  schoolfellows,'  or  '  She  's  a  great  friend  of 
mine.'  I  was  up  there  the  morning  after  the  Coort  came 
home  from  Carew  Castle ;  and  if  ye  heard  the  way  he  went 
on  about  the  company.  He  began  with  Curtis,  and  finished 
with  Carew  himself." 

Fagan  closed  the  door  here,  and,  walking  over,  sat  down 
beside  my  father's  chair. 

"  We  've  heard  enough  now,  sir,"  said  he,  "  to  know  what 
popular  opinion  will  pronounce  upon  this  man.  Denny 
speaks  with  the  voice  of  a  large  mass  of  this  city ;  and  if 
they  be  not  either  very  intelligent  or  exalted,  they  are  at 
least  fellows  who  back  words  by  deeds,  and  are  quite  ready 
to  risk  their  heads  for  their  convictions,  —  a  test  of  honesty 
that  their  betters,  perhaps,  would  shrink  from.  From  what 
he  says,  there  will  be  little  sympathy  for  Rutledge.  The 
law,  of  course,  will  follow  its  due  path ;  but  the  law  against 
popular  feeling  is  like  the  effort  of  the  wind  to  resist  the 
current  of  a  fast  river :   it  mav  ruffle  the  surface,  but  never 


A   MIDNIGHT   RENCONTRE.  145 

will  arrest  the  stream.    Now,  sir,  just  tell  me,  in  a  few  words, 
what  took  place  between  you  ?  " 

My  father  detailed  everything,  from  the  hour  of  his  arrival 
in  Dublin,  down  to  the  very  moment  of  his  descending  at 
Fao-an's  door.  He  faltered,  indeed,  and  hesitated  about  the 
conversation  of  the  coffee-room,  for  even  in  all  the  confidence 
of  a  confession,  he 'shrunk  from  revealing  the  story  of  his 
marriage.  And  in  doing  so,  he  stammered  and  blundered 
so  much  that  Fagan  could  collect  little  above  the  bare  facts, 
that  my  mother  had  been  wagered  at  a  card-table,  and  won 
by  my  father. 

Had  my  father  been  in  a  cooler  mood,  he  could  not  have 
failed  to  remark  how  much  deeper  was  the  interest  Fagan 
took  in  the  story  of  his  first  meeting  with  my  mother  than  in 
all  the  circumstances  of  the  duel.  So  far  as  it  was  safe,  — 
further  than  it  would  have  been  so  at  any  other  moment,  — 
the  Grinder  cross-questioned  my  father  as  to  her  birth,  the 
manner  of  her  education,  and  the  position  she  held  before 
her  marriage. 

"  This  is  all  beside  the  matter,"  cried  my  father,  at  last, 
impatiently.  "I  am  now  to  think  what  is  best  to  be  done 
here.  Shall  I  give  myself  up  at  once?  —  And  why  not, 
Fagan  ? "  added  he,  abruptly,  interrogating  the  look  of  the 
other. 

"For  two  sufficient  reasons,  sir:  first,  that  you  would  be 
needlessly  exposing  yourself  to  great  peril ;  and,  secondly, 
you  would  certainly  be  exposing  another  to  great  —  "  He 
stopped  and  faltered,  for  there  was  that  in  my  father's  face 
that  made  the  utterance  of  a  wrong  word  dangerous. 

"Take  care  what  you  say,  Master  Tony;  for,  however 
selfish  you  may  deem  me,  I  have  still  enough  of  heart  left  to 
consider  those  far  worthier  of  thought  than  myself." 

"  And  yet,  sir,  the  fact  is  so,  whether  I  speak  it  or  not," 
said  Fagan.  "  Once  let  this  affair  come  before  a  public 
tribunal,  and  what  is  there  that  can  be  held  back  from  the 
prying  impertinence  of  the  world?  And  I  see  no  more  rea- 
son why  you  should  peril  life  than  risk  all  that  makes  life 
desirable." 

"  But  what  or  where  is  all  this  peril,  Fagan?     You  talk- 
as  if  I  had  been  committing  a  murder." 
10 


146  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

"  It  is  precisely  the  name  they  would  give  it  in  the  indict- 
ment, sir,"  said  the  other,  boldly.  "  Nay,  hear  me  out,  Mr. 
Carew.  Were  I  to  tell  the  adventure  of  last  night  as  the 
bare  facts  reveal  it,  who  would  suggest  the  possibility  of  its 
being  a  duel  ?  Think  of  the  place  —  the  hour  —  the  solitude 
—  the  mere  accident  of  the  meeting !  Oh,  no,  sir ;  duels  are 
not  fought  in  this  fashion." 

"You  are  arguing  against  yourself,  Tony.  You  have 
convinced  me  that  there  is  but  one  course  open.  I  must 
surrender  myself !  " 

"  Think  well  of  it  first,  Mr.  Carew,"  said  Fagan,  drawing 
his  chair  closer,  and  speaking  in  a  lower  tone.  "We  must 
not  let  any  false  delicacy  deceive  us.  There  never  was  a 
case  of  this  kind  yet  that  did  not  less  depend  upon  its  own 
merits  than  on  fifty  things  over  which  one  has  no  control. 
The  temper  of  the  judge —  the  rank  in  life  of  the  jury  —  the 
accidental  tone  of  public  opinion  at  the  moment  —  the  bias 
of  the  press  :  these  are  the  agencies  to  be  thought  of.  When 
Grogan  Hamilton  was  tried  for  shooting  John  Adair  in  the 
mess-room  at  Carlow,  his  verdict  was  pronounced  before  the 
jury  was  empanelled  !  " 

"  I  never  heard  of  that  case,"  said  my  father,  anxiously. 

"  It  occurred  when  you  were  a  boy  at  school,  sir;  and 
although  the  facts  would  not  read  so  condemnatory  now,  at 
that  time  there  was  not  one  voice  to  be  heard  on  the  side  of 
mercy.  The  duel,  if  duel  it  could  be  called,  took  place 
after  every  one,  save  themselves,  had  left  the  table.  The 
quarrel  was  an  old  grudge  revived  over  the  bottle.  They 
fought  without  witnesses  and  with  Heaven  knows  what  in- 
equality of  weapons ;  and  although  Hamilton  gave  himself 
up " 

"  He  gave  himself  up?  "  interrupted  my  father. 

"  Yes,  sir;  in  direct  opposition  to  his  friends'  advice,  he 
did  so :  but  had  he  followed  a  different  course,  —  had  he 
even  waited  till  the  excitement  had  calmed  down  a  little, 
till  men  began  to  talk  more  dispassionately  on  the  subject, 
the  result  might  have  been  different." 

"  And  what  was  the  result?  " 

"  I  have  already  told  you,  sir, —  a  conviction." 

"  And  what  followed?  " 


A   MIDNIGHT   RENCONTRE.  147 

"He  was  hanged,  —  hanged  in  front  of  the  old  jail  at 
Naas,  where  the  regiment  he  once  had  served  in  was  quar- 
tered. I  don't  know  how  or  why  this  was  done.  Some  said 
it  was  to  show  the  people  that  there  was  no  favoritism 
towards  a  man  of  rank  and  fortune.  Some  alleged  it  was  to 
spare  the  feelings  of  his  relatives,  who  were  Carlow  people." 

"Good  Heavens!"  exclaimed  my  father,  passionately; 
"was  there  ever  such  an  infamy!" 

"  The  event  happened  as  I  tell  you,  sir,  I  believe  I  have 
the  trial  in  the  house ;  if  I  have  not,  Crowther  will  have  it, 
for  he  was  engaged  in  the  defence,  and  one  of  those  who 
endeavored  to  dissuade  Hamilton  from  his  resolution  of 
surrender." 

"  And  who  is  Crowther?  " 

"  A  solicitor,  sir,  of  great  practice  and  experience." 

"  In  whom  you  have  confidence,  Fagan?  " 

"  The  most  implicit  confidence." 

"And  who  could  be  useful  to  us  in  this  affair?" 

"Of  the  very  greatest  utility,  sir,  —  not  alone  from  his 
legal  knowledge,  but  from  his  consummate  acquaintance 
with  the  world  and  its  modes  of  thinking." 

"  Can  you  send  for  him?  Can  you  get  him  here  without 
exciting  suspicion  ?  "  said  my  father  ;  for  already  had  terror 
seized  hold  on  him,  and  even  before  he  knew  it  was  he 
entangled  in  the  toils. 

"I  can  have  him  here  within  an  hour,  sir.  and  without 
any  risk  whatever;  for  he  is  my  own  law  adviser,  and  in 
constant  intercourse  with  me." 

Fagan  now  persuaded  my  father  to  lie  down  and  try  to 
obtain  some  sleep,  promising  to  awake  him  the  moment  that 
Crowther  arrived. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  CONFERENCE. 

Scarcely  had  my  father  laid  himself  down  on  the  bed, 
when  he  fell  off  into  a  heavy  sleep.  Fatigue,  exhaustion, 
and  loss  of  blood  all  combined  to  overcome  him,  and  he  lay 
motionless  in  the  same  attitude  he  at  first  assumed. 

Fagan  came  repeatedly  to  the  bedside,  and,  opening  the 
curtains  slightly,  gazed  on  the  cold,  impassive  features  with 
a  strange  intensity.  One  might  have  supposed  that  the 
almost  deathlike  calm  of  the  sleeper's  face  would  have 
defied  every  thought  or  effort  of  speculation ;  but  there  he 
sat,  watching  it  as  though,  by  dint  of  patience  and  study, 
he  might  at  length  attain  to  reading  what  was  passing  within 
that  brain. 

At  the  slightest  sound  that  issued  from  the  lips,  too,  he 
would  bend  down  to  try  and  catch  its  meaning.  Perhaps, 
at  moments  like  these,  a  trace  of  impatience  might  be  de- 
tected in  his  manner ;  but,  for  the  most  part,  his  hard, 
stern  features  showed  no  sign  of  emotion,  and  it  was  in  all 
his  accustomed  self-possession  that  he  descended  to  the 
small  and  secluded  chamber  where  Crowther  sat  awaiting 
him. 

"  Still  asleep,  Fagan?"  asked  the  lawyer,  looking  hastily 
up  from  the  papers  and  documents  he  had  been  perusing. 

"  He  is  asleep,  and  like  enough  to  continue  so,"  replied 
the  other,  slowly,  while  he  sank  down  into  an  arm-chair,  and 
gave  himself  up  to  deep  reflection. 

"I  have  been  thinking  a  good  deal  over  what  you  have 
told  me,"  said  Crowther,  "and  I  own  I  see  the  very  gra- 
vest objections  to  his  surrendering  himself." 

"  My  own  opinion !  "  rejoined  Fagan,  curtly. 

"Even  if  it  were  an  ordinary  duel,  with  all  the  accus- 
tomed formalities  of  time,  place,  and  witnesses,  the  temper 


A  CONFERENCE.  149 

of  the  public  mind  is  just  now  iu  a  critical  state  on  these 
topics ;  MacNamara's  death  aud  that  unfortunate  affair 
at  Kells  have  made  a  deep  impression.  I'd  not  trust  too 
much  to  such  dispositions.  Besides,  the  chances  are  they 
would  not  admit  him  to  bail,  so  that  he  'd  have  to  pass  three, 
nearly  four,  months  in  Newgate  before  he  could  be  brought 
to  trial." 

"He'd  not  live  through  the  imprisonment.  It  would 
break  his  heart,  if  it  did  not  kill  him  otherwise." 

"By  no  means  unlikely." 

"I  know  him  well,  and  I  am  convinced  he'd  not  sur- 
vive it.  Why,  the  very  thought  of  the  accusation,  the  bare 
idea  that  he  could  be  arraigned  as  a  criminal,  so  overcame 
him  here  this  morning  that  he  staggered  back  and  sunk 
into  that  chair,  half  fainting." 

"  He  thinks  that  he  was  not  known  at  that  hotel  where 
he  stopped  ?  " 

"He  is  quite  confident  of  that  ;  the  manner  of  the 
waiters  towards  him  convinces  him  that  he  was  not 
recognized." 

' '  Nor  has  he  spoken  with  any  one  since  his  arrival,  except 
yourself?  " 

"  Not  one,  save  the  hackney  carman,  who  evidently  did 
not  know  him." 

"  He  left  home,  you  say,  without  a  servant?  " 

"  Yes!  he  merely  said  that  he  was  going  over  for  a  day 
or  two,  to  the  mines,  and  would  be  back  by  the  end  of  the 
week.  But,  latterly,  he  has  often  absented  himself  in  this 
fashion ;  and,  having  spoken  of  visiting  one  place,  has 
chauged  his  mind  and  gone  to  another,  in  an  opposite 
direction." 

"  Who  has  seen  him  since  he  arrived  here?" 

"  No  one  but  myself  and  Raper." 

"  Ah  !  Raper  has  seen  him?  " 

"  That  matters  but  little.  Joe  has  forgotten  all  about  it 
already,  or,  if  he  has  not,  I  have  but  to  say  that  it  was  a 
mistake,  for  him  to  fancy  that  it  was  so.  You  shall  see,  if 
you  like,  that  he  will  not  even  hesitate  the  moment  I  tell  him 
the  thing  is  so." 

"  It  only  remains,  then,  to  determine  where  he  should  go, 


150  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

—  I  mean  Cavew ;  for  although  any  locality  would  serve  in 
one  respect,  we  must  bethink  ourselves  of  every  issue  to 
this  affair :  and,  should  there  be  any  suspicion  attaching  to 
him,  he  ought  to  be  out  of  danger,  —  the  danger  of  arrest. 
Where  do  his  principal  estates  lie?" 

"  In  Wicklow,  —  immediately  around  Castle  Carew." 

"  But  he  has  other  property?  " 

"Yes,  he  has  some  northern  estates;  and  there  is  a 
mine,  also,  on  Lough  Allen  belonging  to  him." 

"  Well,  why  not  go  there?  " 

' '  There  is  no  residence ;  there  is  nothing  beyond  the 
cabins  of  the  peasantry,  or  the  scarcely  more  comfortable 
dwelling  of  the  overseer.  I  have  it,  Crowther,"  cried  he, 
suddenly,  as  though  a  happy  notion  had  just  struck  him; 
"  I  have  it.  You  have  heard  of  that  shooting-lodge  of  mine 
at  the  Killeries?  It  was  Carew's  property,  but  has  fallen 
into  my  hands ;  he  shall  go  there.  So  far  as  seclusion  goes, 
I  defy  Ireland  to  find  its  equal.  They  who  have  seen  it, 
tell  me  it  is  a  perfect  picture  of  landscape  beauty.  He  can 
shoot  and  fish  and  sketch  for  a  week  or  so,  till  we  see  what 
turn  this  affair  is  like  to  take.  Nothing  could  be  better; 
the  only  difficulty  is  the  distance." 

"  You  tell  me  that  he  is  ill." 

"It  is  more  agitation  than  actual  illness;  he  was  weak 
and  feeble  before  this  happened,  and  of  course  his  nerves  are 
terribly  shaken  by  it." 

"The  next  consideration  is,  how  to  apprise  his  wife; 
at  least,  what  we  ought  to  tell  her  if  he  be  incapable  of 
writing." 

"I  hinted  that  already  as  I  accompanied  him  upstairs, 
and  by  his  manner  it  struck  me  that  he  did  not  la}'  much 
stress  on  the  matter ;  he  merely  said,  '  Oh !  she  has  no  curi- 
osity ;  she  never  worries  herself  about  what  does  not  concern 
her.' " 

"  A  rare  quality  in  a  wife,  Fagan,"  said  the  other,  with  a 
smile. 

Whether  it  was  the  prompting  of  his  own  thoughts,  or  that 
some  real  or  fancied  emphasis  on  the  word  "wife"  caught 
him,  but  Fagan  asked  suddenly,  "  What  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  I  remarked  that  it  was  a  rare  quality  for  a  wife  to  pos* 


A   CONFERENCE.  151 

sess.  You  thought,  perhaps,  it  was  rather  the  gift  of  those 
who  enjoy  the  privilege,  and  not  the  name  of  such." 

"Maybe  you're  right,  then,  Crowther.  Shall  I  own  to 
you,  it  was  the  very  thought  that  was  passing  through  my 
own  brain  !  " 

"How  strange  that  Rutledge  should  have  hinted  the  very 
same  suspicion  to  myself,  the  last  time  we  ever  spoke  to- 
gether," said  Crowther,  in  a  low,  confidential  whisper.  "  We 
were  sitting  in  my  back  office  ;  he  had  come  to  show  me  some 
bills  of  money  won  at  play,  and  ask  my  advice  about  them. 
Carew  was  the  indorser  of  two  or  three  amongst  them,  and 
Rutledge  remarked  at  the  tremendous  pace  the  other  was  go- 
ing, and  how  impossible  it  was  that  any  fortune  could  long 
maintain  it.  There  was  some  difficulty  in  catching  exactly 
his  meaning,  for  he  spoke  rapidly,  and  with  more  than  his 
accustomed  warmth.  It  was  something,  however,  to  this 
effect :  '  All  this  extravagant  display  is  madame's  doing, 
and  the  natural  consequence  of  his  folly  in  France.  If,  in- 
stead of  this  absurd  mistake,  he  had  married  and  settled  in 
Ireland,  his  whole  career  would  have  taken  a  different  turn.' 
Now,  when  I  reflected  on  the  words  after  he  left  me,  I  could 
not  satisfy  myself  whether  he  had  said  that  Carew  ought  to 
have  married,  in  contradistinction  to  have  formed  this  French 
attachment,  or  simply  that  he  deemed  an  Irish  wife  would 
have  been  a  wiser  choice  than  a  French  one." 

"  The  former  strikes  me  as  the  true  interpretation,"  said 
Fagan  ;  "  and  the  more  I  think  on  every  circumstance  of  this 
affair,  the  more  do  I  incline  to  this  opinion.  The  secrecy  so 
unnecessary,  the  mystery  as  to  her  family,  even  as  to  her 
aame,  all  so  needless.  That  interval  of  seclusion,  in  which, 
probably,  he  had  not  yet  resolved  finally  on  the  course  he 
should  adopt.  And,  lastly,  a  point  more  peculiarly  referring 
to  ourselves,  and  over  which  I  have  often  pondered,  —  I  mean 
the  selection  of  my  daughter  Polly  to  be  her  friend  and 
companion.  It  is  not  at  my  time  of  life,"  added  Fagan, 
with  an  almost  fierce  energy  of  voice,  "  that  I  have  to  learn 
how  the  aristocracy  regard  me  and  such  as  me.  No  one 
needs  to  tell  me  that  any  intercourse  between  us  must  depend 
on  something  else  than  similarity  of  taste  and  pursuit ;  that 
if  we  ever  sit  down  to  the  same  table  together,  it  is  on  the 


152  SIR   JASPER   CAREW. 

ground  of  a  compromise.  There  is  a  shame  to  be  concealed 
or  consoled,  or  there  is  a  debt  to  be  deferred,  or  left  un- 
claimed forever.  Walter  Carew's  wife  would  scarcely  have 
sought  out  the  Grinder's  daughter  for  her  friend  and  bosom 
companion.  His  mistress  might  have  thought  such  an  alli- 
ance most  suitable.  Polly  has  herself  told  me  the  terms 
of  perfect  equality  on  which  they  lived ;  that  never  by  a 
chance  word,  look,  or  gesture  was  there  aught  which  could 
imply  a  position  of  superiority  above  her  own.  They  called 
each  other  by  their  Christian  names,  they  assumed  all  the 
intimacy  of  sisters,  and  that  almost  at  once.  When  she 
related  these  things  to  me,"  cried  Fagan,  sternly,  "  my 
passion  nearly  overcame  me,  to  think  how  we  had  been  out- 
raged and  insulted  ;  but  I  remembered,  suddenly,  that  there 
were  others,  far  higher  than  us,  exposed  to  the  same  indig- 
nity. The  Castle  was  crowded  by  the  rank,  the  wealth,  and 
the  influence  of  the  whole  country  ;  and  if  there  be  a  disgrace 
to  be  endured,  we  have  at  least  partners  in  our  shame." 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  Crowther,  nodding  his  head  slowly  in 
assent;  "  the  whole  assumes  a  strange  and  most  remarkable 
consistency.  I  remember  well,  hearing  how  many  of  those 
invited  on  that  occasion  had  sent  letters  of  apology;  and 
stranger  again,  the  way  in  which  the  party  broke  up  and 
separated  has  been  made  public  enough  in  the  newspapers. 
Rutledge's  own  words  were  :  '  It  was  a  rout,  not  a  retreat.' 
That  was  a  curious  expression." 

Who  has  not,  at  some  time  or  other  of  his  life,  experienced 
the  force  of  that  casuistry  which  is  begotten  of  suspicion? 
Who  has  not  felt  how  completely  reason  is  mastered  by  the 
subtle  assaults  of  a  wily  ingenuity  which,  whilst  combining 
the  false  and  the  true,  the  possible  and  impossible  together, 
makes  out  a  mock  array  of  evidence  almost  too  strong  for  a 
doubt?  The  least  creative  of  minds  are  endowed  with  this 
faculty,  and  even  the  most  commonplace  and  matter-of-fact 
temperaments  are  sometimes  the  slaves  of  this  delusion !  To 
render  its  influence  all  powerful,  however,  it  should  be  exer- 
cised by  two  who,  in  the  interchange  of  suspicions,  and  by 
bartering  their  inferences,  arrive  at  a  degree  of  certainty  in 
their  conclusions  rarely  accorded  to  the  most  convincing 
testimony.     As  a  river  is  swollen  by  the  aid  of  every  tiny 


A   CONFERENCE.  153 

rill  that  trickles  down  the  mountain  side,  so  does  the  current 
of  conviction  receive  as  tributary,  incidents  the  most  trivial, 
and  events  of  the  slightest  meaning. 

Fagan's  spirit  revolted  at  what  he  felt  to  be  a  gross  insult 
passed  upon  his  daughter ;  but  this  very  indignation  served 
to  rivet  more  firmly  his  suspicions,  for  he  reasoned  thus : 
Men  are  ever  ready  to  credit  what  they  desire  to  be  credible, 
and  to  disbelieve  that  which  it  is  unpleasant  to  accept  as  true. 
Now,  here  have  I  every  temptation  to  incredulity  !  If  this 
be  the  fact,  as  my  suspicions  indicate,  I  have  been  deeply 
outraged.  An  affront  has  been  offered  to  me  which  dared 
not  have  been  put  upon  one  of  higher  rank  and  better  blood. 
It  is,  therefore,  my  interest  aud  my  wish  to  suppose  this 
impossible ;  and  yet  I  cannot  do  so.  Not  all  the  self-respect 
I  can  call  to  aid,  not  all  the  desire  to  shelter  myself  behind 
a  doubt,  will  suffice.  My  reason  accepts  what  my  feelings 
would  reject,  and  I  believe  what  it  is  a  humiliation  for  me 
to  credit. 

Such  was,  in  brief,  the  substance  of  a  long  mental  struggle 
and  self-examination  on  Fagan's  part,  —  a  process  to  which 
he  addressed  himself  with  all  the  shrewdness  of  his  nature. 
It  was  a  matter  of  deep  moment  to  him  in  every  way.  He 
ardently  desired  that  he  should  arrive  at  a  right  judgment 
upon  it ;  and  yet,  with  all  his  penetration  and  keen-sigkted- 
ness,  he  never  perceived  that  another  agency  was  at  work 
all  the  while,  whose  tendencies  were  exactly  in  the  opposite 
direction.  To  believe  Walter  Carew  still  unmarried  was  to 
revive  his  long-extinct  hope  of  calling  him  his  son-in-law, 
and  to  bring  back  once  more  that  gorgeous  dream  of  Polly's 
elevation  to  rank  and  position,  which  had  filled  his  mind  for 
many  a  year.  His  whole  heart  had  been  set  upon  this 
object.  In  pursuit  of  it,  he  had  made  the  most  immense 
advances  of  money  to  my  father,  many  of  them  on  inferior 
security.  For  some  he  had  the  mere  acknowledgment  con- 
tained in  a  few  lines  of  a  common  letter.  The  measures  of 
severity  which  he  had  once  menaced  were  undertaken  in  the 
very  paroxysm  of  his  first  disappointment,  and  were  as 
speedily  relinquished  when  calm  reflection  showed  him  that 
they  could  avail  nothing  against  the  past.  Besides  this  he 
felt  that  there  was  still  an  object,  to  the  attainment  of  which 


154  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

my  father's  aid  might  contribute  much,  and  towards  which 
he  hoped  to  urge  him,  —  the  emancipation  of  the  Catholics. 
It  had  been  long  Fagan's  cherished  idea  that  the  leadership 
of  that  party  should  be  given  to  one  who  united  to  reasonable 
good  abilities  the  advantages  of  birth,  large  fortune,  and, 
above  all,  personal  courage. 

"  We  have  orators  and  writers  in  abundance,"  would  he 
say.  "There  are  plenty  who  can  make  speeches,  and  even 
songs,  for  us ;  but  we  want  a  few  men  who,  with  a  large 
stake  in  the  country,  and  high  position  in  society,  are  willing 
and  ready  to  peril  botb,  and  themselves  into  the  bargain,  in 
the  assertion  of  our  cause.  If  we  ever  chance  to  find  these, 
our  success  is  certain.  The  worst  thing  about  our  cause," 
added  he,  "  is  not  its  disloyalty,  for  that  admits  of  discus- 
sion and  denial;  but  the  real  plague-spot  is  its  vulgarity. 
Our  enemies  have  been  cunning  enough  to  cast  over  the 
great  struggle  of  a  nation  all  the  petty  and  miserable 
characteristics  of  a  faction,  and  not  of  mere  faction,  but  of 
one  agitated  by  the  lowest  motives,  and  led  on  by  the 
meanest  advocates.  A  gentleman  or  two,  to  take  service 
with  us,  will  at  once  repulse  this  tactic ;  and  until  we  can 
hit  upon,  these,  we  shall  make  no  progress." 

I  have  been  obliged  to  dwell  even  to  tediousness  on  these 
traits  of  the  Grinder ;  for  if  they  be  not  borne  in  mind,  his 
actions  and  motives  will  seem  destitute  of  any  satisfactory 
explanation.  And  I  now  return  to  the  chamber  where  he  sat 
with  Crowther  as  they  compared  impressions  together,  and 
bartered  suspicions  about  my  father's  marriage. 

"  Now  that  I  begin  to  consider  the  matter  in  this  light," 
said  Crowther,  "  it  is  curious  what  an  explanation  it  affords 
to  many  things  that  used  to  puzzle  me  formerly :  all  that 
coldness  and  reserve  towards  Carew  that  his  neighbors 
showed  ;  the  way  his  former  acquaintances  fell  off  from 
him,  one  by  one;  and,  lastly,  those  strange  hints  about 
him  in  the  newspapers.  I  suppose  we  should  see  the 
meaning  of  every  one  of  them  now  easily  enough  ? " 

Fagan  made  no  reply ;  his  mind  was  travelling  along  over 
the  road  it  had  entered  upon,  and  would  not  be  turned  away 
by  any  call  whatsoever. 

"  Yes,"  muttered  he  to  himself,   "  the  little  cottage  at 


A   CONFERENCE.  155 

Fallracb,  in  the  Killeries,  —  that 's  the  place  !  and  the  only 
thing  now  is  to  get  him  down  there.  I  must  go  up  and  see 
how  he  gets  on,  Crowther.  I  'm  half  afraid  that  he  ought 
to  see  a  surgeon."  And,  so  saying,  he  arose  and  left  the 
room. 

My  father  was  still  sleeping  as  he  entered,  but  less  tran- 
quilly than  before,  with  a  feverish  flush  upon  his  face,  and 
his  lips  dry  and  dark-colored. 

"With  a  noiseless  hand,  Fagan  drew  back  the  curtain,  and, 
seating  himself  close  to  the  bed,  bent  down  to  gaze  on  him. 
The  uneasy  motions  of  the  sleeper  denoted  pain ;  and  more 
than  once  his  hand  was  pressed  against  his  side,  as  if  it  was 
the  seat  of  some  suffering.  Fagan  watched  every  gesture 
eagerly,  and  tried,  but  in  vain,  to  collect  some  meaning 
from  the  low  and  broken  utterance.  Rapidly  speaking  at 
intervals,  and  at  times  moaning  painfully,  he  appeared  to 
labor  either  under  some  mental  or  bodily  agony,  in  a  par- 
oxysm of  which,  at  last,  he  burst  open  his  vest,  and  clutched 
his  embroidered  shirt-frill  with  a  violence  that  tore  it  in 
fragments. 

As  he  did  so,  Fagan  caught  sight  of  a  handkerchief 
stained  with  blood,  which,  with  cautious  gesture,  he  slowly 
removed,  and,  walking  to  the  window,  examined  it  carefully. 
This  done,  he  folded  it  up,  and,  enveloping  it  in  his  own, 
placed  it  in  his  pocket.  Once  more  he  took  his  place  at  the 
bedside,  and  seemed  to  listen  with  intense  anxiety  for  every 
sound  of  the  sleeper's  lips.  The  fever  appeared  to  gain 
ground,  for  the  flush  now  covered  the  face  and  forehead,  and 
the  limbs  were  twitched  with  short  convulsive  motions. 

At  last,  as  the  paroxysm  had  reached  its  height,  he  bounded 
up  from  the  bed  and  awoke. 

"Where  am  I?"  cried  he,  wildly.  "Who  are  all  these? 
What  do  they  allege  against  me?  " 

"Lie  down;  compose  yourself,  Mr.  Carew.  You  are 
amongst  friends,  who  wish  you  well,  and  will  treat  you 
kindly,"  said  Fagan,  mildly. 

"  But  it  was  not  of  my  seeking,  —  no  one  can  dare  to  say 
so.  Fagan  will  be  my  back  to  any  amount,  —  ten  thousand. 
if  they  ask  it." 

"That  will  I,  —  to  the  last  penny  I  possess." 


156  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

"There,  I  told  you  so.  I  often  said  I  knew  the  Grinder 
better  than  any  of  you.  You  laughed  at  me  for  it ;  but  1 
was  right,  for  all  that." 

"  I  trust  you  were  right,  sir,"  said  Fagan,  calmly. 

"What  I  said  was  this,"  continued  he,  eagerly:  "the 
father  of  such  a  girl  as  Polly  must  be  a  gentleman  at  heart. 
He  may  trip  and  stumble,  in  his  imitations  of  your  modish 
paces;  but  the  soul  of  a  gentleman  must  be  in  him.  Was 
I  right  there,  or  not?  " 

"Pray,  calm  yourself;  lie  down,  and  take  your  rest," 
said  Fagan,  gently  pushing  him  back  upon  the  pillow. 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  said  he  ;  "  there  is  nothing  for  it 
now  but  submission.  MacNaghten,  Harvey,  Burton,  —  all 
who  have  known  me  from  boyhood,  — can  testify  if  I  were 
one  to  do  a  dishonorable  action.  I  tell  you  again  and  again, 
I  will  explain  nothing ;  life  is  not  worth  such  a  price,  — 
such  ignominy  is  too  great !  " 

He  paused,  as  if  the  thought  was  too  painful  to  pursue ; 
and  then,  fixing  his  eyes  on  Fagan,  he  laughed  aloud,  and 
added,  — 

"Eh,  Fagan!  that  would  be  like  one  of  your  own  con- 
tracts, —  a  hundred  per  cent !  " 

"I  have  not  treated  you  in  this  wise,  Mr.  Carew,"  said 
he,  calmly. 

' '  No,  my  boy !  that  you  have  not.  To  the  last  hour  of 
my  life  —  no  great  stretch  of  time,  perhaps  —  I  '11  say  the 
same.  You  have  been  a  generous  fellow  with  me  —  the 
devil  and  yourself  may  perhaps  know  why,  —  I  do  not ; 
nay,  more,  Fagan  —  I  never  cared  to  know.  Perhaps  you 
thought  I  'd  marry  Polly.  By  George !  I  might  have  done 
worse  ;  and  who  knows  what  may  be  yet  on  the  cards  ?  Ay, 
just  so  —  the  cards  —  the  cards  !  " 

He  did  not  speak  again  for  several  minutes ;  but  when  he 
did,  his  voice  assumed  a  tone  of  greater  distinctness  and 
accuracy,  as  if  he  would  not  that  a  single  word  were  lost. 

"  I  knew  your  scheme  about  the  Papists,  Tony;  I  guessed 
what  you  were  at  then.     I  was  to  have  emancipated  you !  " 

A  wild  laugh  broke  from  him,  and  he  went  on,  — 

"Just  fancy  the  old  trumpeter's  face,  that  hangs  up  in 
the  dinner-room   at   Castle   Carew!     Imagine   the  look  he 


A  CONFERENCE.  157 

would  bestow  on  his  descendant  as  I  sat  down  to  table. 
Faitb  !  Old  Noll  bimself  would  have  jumped  out  of  the  can- 
vas at  the  tidings.  If  you  cannot  strain  your  fancy  that 
far,  Tony,  think  what  your  own  father  would  have  said  were 
his  degenerate  son  to  be  satisfied  with  lawful  interest!  — 
imagine  him  sorrowing  over  the  lost  precepts  of  his  house !  " 

"  There;  I'll  close  the  curtains,  and  leave  you  to  take  a 
sleep,"  said  Fagau. 

"  But  I  have  no  time  for  this,  man,"  cried  the  other,  again 
starting  up  ;  "  I  must  be  up  and  away.  You  must  find  some 
place  of  concealment  for  me  till  I  can  reach  the  Continent. 
Understand  me  well,  Fagan,  I  cannot,  I  will  not,  make  a 
defence  ;  as  little  am  I  disposed  to  die  like  a  felon  !  There  's 
the  whole  of  it !  Happily,  if  the  worst  should  come,  Tony, 
the  disgrace  dies  with  me  ;  that 's  something,  —  eh  ?  " 

"  You  will  make  yourself  far  worse  by  giving  way  to 
this  excitement,  Mr.  Carew ;  you  must  try  and  compose 
yourself." 

"  So  I  will,  Fagan  ;  I  '11  be  as  obedient  as  you  wish.  Only 
tell  me  that  you  will  watch  for  my  safety,  assure  me  of  that, 
and  I  'm  content." 

As  though  the  very  words  he  had  just  uttered  had  brought 
a  soothing  influence  to  his  mind,  he  had  scarcely  finished 
speaking  when  he  fell  off  into  a  deep  sleep,  unbroken  by 
even  a  dream.  Fagan  stood  long  enough  at  the  bedside 
to  assure  himself  that  all  was  quiet,  and  then  left  the  room, 
locking  the  door  as  he  passed  out,  and  taking  the  key  with 
him. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

CIRCUMSTANTIAL    EVIDENCE. 

In  these  memoirs  of  my  father,  I  have  either  derived  my 
information  from  the  verbal  accounts  of  his  friends  and  con- 
temporaries, or  taken  it  from  his  own  letters  and  papers. 
Many  things  have  I  omitted,  as  irrelevant  to  his  story, 
which,  in  themselves,  might  not  have  been  devoid  of  inter- 
est; and  of  some  others,  the  meaning  and  purport  being 
somewhat  obscure,  I  have  abstained  from  all  mention.  I 
make  this  apology  for  the  incompleteness  of  my  narrative ; 
and  the  reader  will  probably  accept  my  excuses  the  more 
willingly  since  he  is  spared  the  infliction  of  my  discursive- 
ness on  topics  only  secondary  and  adventitious. 

I  now,  however,  come  to  a  period  the  most  eventful  of  his 
story,  but,  by  an  unhappy  accident,  the  least  illustrated  by 
any  record  of  its  acts.  MacNaghten,  my  chief  source  of 
information  hitherto,  is  here  unable  to  guide  or  direct  me. 
He  knew  nothing  of  my  father's  movements,  nor  did  he  hold 
any  direct  intercourse  with  him.  Whatever  letters  may  have 
been  written  by  my  father  himself,  I  am  unable  to  tell,  none 
of  them  having  ever  reached  me.  My  difficulty  is  therefore 
considerable,  having  little  to  guide  me  beyond  chance  para- 
graphs in  some  of  Fagan's  letters  to  his  daughter,  and  some 
two  or  three  formal  communications  on  business  matters  to 
my  mother. 

There  is  yet  enough  even  in  these  scattered  notices  to 
show  that  Fagan's  hopes  of  realizing  the  great  ambition  of 
his  life  had  been  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  renewed.  Not 
alone  was  he  inclined  to  believe  that  my  father  might  be- 
come the  political  leader  of  his  own  peculiar  party,  and  take 
upon  him  the  unclaimed  position  of  an  Irish  champion,  but, 
further  still,  he  persuaded  himself  that  my  father  was  not 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE.  159 

really  married,  and  that  the  present  conjuncture  offered  a 
favorable  prospect  of  making  him  his  son-in-law. 

The  reader  has  already  seen  from  what  a  slight  founda- 
tion this  edifice  sprung, — a  random  word  spoken  by  my 
father  at  a  moment  of  great  excitement ;  a  half-muttered 
regret,  wrung  from  him  in  a  paroxysm  of  wounded  self- 
love. 

He  was  not  the  first,  nor  will  he  be  the  last,  who  shall 
raise  up  a  structure  for  which  the  will  alone  supplies  mate- 
rial ;  mayhap,  too,  in  his  case,  the  fire  of  hope  had  never 
been  totally  extinguished  in  his  heart,  and  from  its  smoul- 
dering embers  now  burst  out  this  new  and  brilliant  flame. 

It  was  about  an  hour  after  midnight  that  a  chaise,  with 
four  horses,  drew  up  at  Fagan's  door;  and,  after  a  brief 
delay,  a  sick  man  was  assisted  carefully  down  the  stairs 
and  deposited  within  the  carriage.  Raper  took  his  place 
beside  him,  and,  with  a  speed  that  denoted  urgency,  the 
equipage  drove  away,  and,  passing  through  many  a  narrow 
lane  and  alley,  emerged  from  the  city  at  last,  and  took  the 
great  western  road. 

Fallrach,  even  in  our  own  day  of  universal  travel  and  re- 
search, is  a  wild  and  lonely  spot;  but  at  the  time  I  refer 
to,  it  was  as  utterly  removed  from  all  intercourse  with  the 
world  as  some  distant  settlement  of  Central  America.  Sit- 
uated in  a  little  bend  or  bight  of  coast  where  the  Killeries 
opens  to  the  great  ocean,  backed  by  lofty  mountains,  and 
flanked  either  by  the  sea  or  the  still  less  accessible  crags 
of  granite,  this  little  cottage  was  almost  concealed  from 
view.  Unpretending  as  it  was  without,  its  internal  arrange- 
ments included  every  comfort;  and  my  father  found  him- 
self not  only  surrounded  with  all  the  appliances  of  ease  and 
enjoyment,  but  in  the  very  midst  of  objects  well  known  and 
dear  to  him  from  old  associations.  It  had  been  in  our  fam- 
ily for  about  a  century;  but  up  to  this  moment  my  father 
had  never  seen  it,  nor  was  he  aware  of  the  singular  beauty 
of  the  neighboring  coast  scenery. 

At  first,  he  could  do  no  more  than  sit  at  an  open  window 
that  looked  over  the  sea,  enjoying,  with  dreamy  languor, 
the  calm  influences  of  a  solitude  so  thoroughly  unbroken. 
To  an  overwrought  and  excited  mind,  this  interval  of  quiet 


160  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

was  a  priceless  luxury ;  and  far  from  experiencing  weari- 
ness in   his  lonely  life,   the  days  glided  past  unnoticed. 

Raper  was  not  of  a  nature  to  obtrude  himself  on  any  one ; 
and  as  my  father  neither  sought  nor  needed  a  companion, 
they  continued  to  live  beneath  the  same  roof  almost  without 
meeting.  While,  therefore,  there  was  the  most  scrupulous 
attention  to  all  my  father's  wants,  and  a  watchfulness  that 
seemed  even  to  anticipate  a  wish  on  his  part,  his  privacy 
was  never  invaded  nor  disturbed.  A  few  words  each  morn- 
ing between  Raper  and  himself  provided  for  all  the  arrange- 
ments of  the  day,  and  there  ended  their  intercourse. 

Leaving  him,  therefore,  in  the  indulgence  of  this  placid 
existence,  I  must  now  turn  to  another  scene,  where  very 
different  actors  and  interests  were  engaged. 

The  death  of  Barry  Rutledge  had  created  the  most  intense 
excitement,  not  alone  in  Dublin,  but  throughout  the  country 
generally.  He  was  almost  universally  known.  His  ac- 
quaintanceship embraced  men  of  every  shade  of  opinion, 
and  of  all  parties ;  and  if  his  character  did  not  suggest  any 
feelings  of  strong  attachment  or  regard,  there  were  social 
qualities  about  him  which,  at  least,  attracted  admiration, 
and  made  him  welcome  in  society. 

Such  men  are  often  regretted  by  the  world  more  deeply 
than  is  their  due.  Their  amusing  faculties  are  frequently 
traced  back  to  some  imaginary  excellence  in  their  natures, 
and  there  mingles  with  the  sorrow  for  their  loss  a  sort  of 
tender  compassion  for  the  fate  of  abilities  misapplied,  and 
high  gifts  wasted.  This  was  exactly  the  case  here.  Many 
who  did  not  rank  amongst  his  intimates  while  he  lived,  now 
affected  to  deplore  his  death  most  deeply ;  and  there  was  a 
degree  of  sympathy  felt,  or  assumed  to  be  felt,  for  his  fate, 
widely  disproportioned  to  his  claims  upon  real  regard. 

The  manner  of  his  death  still  remained  a  profound  mys- 
tery. The  verdict  of  the  coroner's  jury  was  simply  to  the 
effect  that  "he  had  died  of  wounds  inflicted  by  a  person 
or  persons  unknown,"  but  without  an  attempt  at  explan- 
ation. The  witnesses  examined  deposed  to  very  little  more 
than  the  state  in  which  the  body  was  found,  and  the  prints 
of  footsteps  discovered  in  its  vicinity.  These,  indeed,  and 
other    marks   about    the   spot   seemed    to   indicate    that   a 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE.  161 

struggle  had  taken  place ;  but  a  strange  and  unaccountable 
apathy  prevailed  as  to  all  investigation,  and  the  public  was 
left  to  the  very  vaguest  of  speculations  as  they  appeared 
from  time  to  time  in  the  columns  of  the  newspapers. 

Amongst  those  who  accompanied  Rutledge  into  the  street 
there  was  a  singular  discrepancy  of  opinion,  some  aver- 
ring that  they  heard  him  called  on  by  his  name,  and  others 
equally  positive  in  asserting  that  the  provocation  was  ut- 
tered only  in  the  emphatic  monosyllable,  "  a  lie."  They 
were  all  men  of  standing  and  position  in  the  world ;  they 
were  persons  of  indisputable  honor ;  and  yet,  strange  to  say, 
upon  a  simple  matter  of  fact  which  had  occupied  but  a  few 
seconds,  they  could  not  be  brought  to  anything  like  agree- 
ment. The  most  positive  of  all  in  maintaining  his  opinion 
was  a  Colonel  Vereker,  who  persisted  in  alleging  that  he 
stood  side  by  side  with  Rutledge  the  whole  time  he  was 
speaking ;  that  he  could  swear  not  only  to  the  words  used 
by  the  unknown  speaker,  but  that  he  would  go  so  far  as  to 
say,  that  such  was  the  impression  made  upon  his  senses 
that  he  could  detect  the  voice  were  he  ever  to  hear  it  again. 

This  assertion,  at  first  uttered  in  the  small  circle  of 
intimacy,  at  last  grew  to  be  talked  of  abroad,  and  many 
were  of  opinion  it  would  one  day  or  other  give  the  clew 
to  this  mysterious  affair.  As  to  Vereker  himself,  he  felt 
that  he  was  to  a  certain  extent  pledged  to  the  proof  of  what 
he  had  maintained  so  persistently.  His  opinions  had  gained 
currency,  and  were  discussed  by  the  press,  which,  in  the 
dearth  of  other  topics  of  interest,  devoted  a  large  portion 
of  their  columns  to  commentary  on  this  event. 

Any  one  now  looking  back  to  the  pages  of  the  Dublin 
"  Express  "  or  "  Falkner  "  of  that  date  will  scarcely  fail  to 
find  that  each  day  contributed  some  new  and  ingenious 
suggestion  as  to  the  manner  of  Rutledge's  death.  Some  of 
these  were  arrayed  with  great  details  and  the  most  minute 
arrangement  of  circumstances  ;  others  were  constructed  of 
materials  the  least  probable  and  likely.  Every  view  had, 
however,  its  peculiar  advocates,  and  it  was  curious  to  see 
to  what  violence  was  carried  the  war  of  controversy  upon 
the  subject. 

By  the  publicity  which  accompanies  such  events  as  these, 
11 


162  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

the  ends  of  justice  are  mainly  sustained  and  aided.  Dis- 
cussion suggests  inquiry,  and  by  degrees  the  general  mind 
is  turned  with  zeal  to  an  investigation  which,  under  ordi- 
nary circumstances,  had  only  occupied  the  attention  of  the 
authorities. 

To  any  one  who  has  not  witnessed  a  similar  movement  of 
popular  anxiety,  it  would  be  difficult  to  believe  how  com- 
pletely this  topic  engrossed  the  thoughts  of  the  capital ;  and 
through  every  grade  of  society  the  same  intense  desire 
prevailed  to  unravel  this  mystery.  Amongst  the  man}7  facts 
adduced,  was  one  which  attracted  a  large  share  of  specula- 
tion, and  this  was  the  track  of  footsteps  from  the  very 
opposite  corner  of  the  "  Green"  to  the  fatal  spot,  and  their 
issue  at  the  little  wicket  gate  of  which  we  have  already 
spoken.  These  traces  were  made  by  a  large  foot,  and  were 
unmistakably  those  of  a  heavy  man,  wearing  boots  such  as 
were  usually  worn  by  gentlemen.  One  peculiarity  of  them, 
too,  was,  that  the  heels  were  studded  with  large  nails,  rarely 
worn  save  by  the  peasantry.  A  shoemaker  who  served  on 
the  inquest  was  heard  to  remark  that  a  very  few  countiy 
gentlemen  still  persisted  in  having  their  boots  thus  provided, 
and  that  he  himself  had  only  one  such  customer,  for  whom 
he  had  just  finished  a  new  pair  that  were  then  ready  to  be 
sent  home. 

The  remark  attracted  attention,  and  led  to  an  examination 
of  the  boots,  which,  strange  to  say,  were  found  exactly  to 
correspond  with  the  tracks  in  the  clay.  This  fact,  coupled 
with  another,  that  the  person  for  whom  they  were  made,  and 
who  had  been  impatient  to  obtain  them,  had  not  even  called 
at  the  shop  or  made  any  inquiry  since  the  night  of  Rutledge's 
death,  was  of  so  suspicious  a  nature,  that  the  boots  were 
taken  possession  of  by  the  authorities,  and  the  maker 
strictly  enjoined  to  the  most  guarded  secrecy  as  to  the  name 
of  him  by  whom  they  were  ordered. 

"With  every  precaution  to  secure  secrecy,  the  story  of  the 
boots  got  noised  about,  and  letters  poured  forth  in  print  to 
show  that  the  custom  of  wearing  such  heels  as  were  described 
was  by  no  means  so  limited  as  was  at  first  assumed.  In  the 
very  thick  of  discussion  on  this  subject,  there  came  a  post 
letter  one  evening  to  the  bootmaker's  house,  requesting  him 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE.  163 

to  send  the  boots  lately  ordered  by  an  old  customer,  J.  C, 
to  the  "Blue  Balls,"  at  Clontarf,  addressed,  "George  J. 
Grogan,  Esq." 

The  shopkeeper,  on  receiving  this  epistle,  immediately 
communicated  it  to  the  authorities,  who  could  not  fail  to  see 
in  it  another  circumstance  of  deep  suspicion.  From  the 
first  moment  of  having  learned  hi*  name,  they  had  prose- 
cuted the  most  active  inquiries,  and  learned  that  he  had 
actually  been  in  town  the  evening  of  Rutledge's  death,  and 
suddenly  taken  his  departure  on  the  morning  after.  The 
entire  of  the  preceding  evening,  too,  he  had  been  absent 
from  his  hotel,  to  which  he  returned  late  at  night,  and  instead 
of  retiring  to  bed,  immediately  occupied  himself  with  prepa- 
rations for  his  departure. 

As  the  individual  was  one  well  known,  and  occupying  a 
prominent  position  in  society,  it  was  deemed  to  be  a  step 
requiring  the  very  gravest  deliberation  in  what  manner  to 
proceed.  His  political  opinions,  and  even  his  personal  con- 
duct, being  strongly  opposed  to  the  Government,  rather 
increased  than  diminished  this  difficulty,  since  the  Liberal 
papers  would  be  sure  to  lay  hold  of  any  proceedings  as  a 
gross  insult  to  the  national  party. 

The  advice  of  the  law  officers,  however,  overruled  all 
these  objections ;  a  number  of  circumstances  appeared  tc 
concur  to  inculpate  him,  and  it  was  decided  on  issuing  a 
warrant  for  his  arrest  at  the  place  which  he  had  named  as 
his  address. 

Secrecy  was  now  no  longer  practicable ;  and  to  the  aston- 
ishment of  all  Dublin  was  it  announced  in  the  morning 
papers  that  Mr.  Curtis  was  arrested  the  preceding  night, 
on  a  judge's  warrant,  charged  with  the  murder  of  Barry 
Rutledge. 

Terrible  as  such  an  accusation  must  always  sound,  there 
is  something  doubly  appalling  when  uttered  against  one 
whose  rank  in  society  would  seem  to  exempt  him  from  the 
temptations  of  such  guilt.  The  natural  revulsion  to  credit 
a  like  imputation  is,  of  course,  considerable;  but,  notwith- 
standing this,  there  were  circumstances  in  Curtis's  character 
and  habits  that  went  far  to  render  the  allegation  no!  devoid 
of  probability.     He  was  a  rash,  impetuous,  and  revengeful 


164  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

man,  always  involved  in  pecuniary  difficulties,  and  rarely 
exempt  from  some  personal  altercation.  Harassed  b}r  law, 
disappointed,  and,  as  he  himself  thought,  persecuted  by  the 
Government,  his  life  was  a  continual  conflict.  Though  not 
without  those  who  recognized  in  him  traits  of  warm-hearted 
and  generous  devotion,  the  number  of  these  diminished  as 
he  grew  older,  and,  by  the  casualties  of  the  world,  he  lived 
to  fancy  himself  the  last  of  a  bygone  generation  far  supe- 
rior in  every  gift  and  attribute  to  that  which  succeeded  it. 

When  arrested,  and  charged  with  the  crime  of  wilful  mur- 
der, so  far  from  experiencing  the  indignant  astonishment 
such  an  allegation  might  naturally  lead  to,  he  only  accepted 
it  as  another  instance  of  the  unrelenting  hate  with  which  the 
Government,  or,  as  he  styled  it,  "  the  Castle,"  had,  through 
his  life  long,  pursued  him. 

"Who  is  it,"  cried  he,  with  sarcastic  bitterness,  "that  I 
have  murdered  ?  " 

"You  are  charged  with  being  accessory  to  the  death  of 
Mr.  Barry  Rutledge,  sir,"  said  the  other. 

' '  Barry  Rutledge  !  —  the  Court- jester,  the  Castle-mimic, 
the  tale-bearer  of  the  Viceroy's  household,  the  hireling 
scoffer  at  honest  men,  and  the  cringing  supplicant  of  bad 
ones.  The  man  who  crushed  such  a  reptile  would  have 
deserved  well  of  his  country,  if  it  were  not  that  the  breed 
is  too  large  to  be  extirpated." 

"Take  care  what  you  say,  Mr.  Curtis,"  said  the  other, 
respectfully;  "your  words  may  be  used  to  your  dis- 
advantage." 

"Take  care  what  I  say!  Who  are  you  speaking  to, 
sirrah?  Is  the  caution  given  to  Joe  Curtis?  Is  it  to  the 
man  that  has  braved  your  power  and  laughed  at  your  Acts 
of  Parliament  these  fifty  years?  Are  you  going  to  teach  me 
discretion  now?  Hark  ye,  my  man,  tell  your  employers  not 
to  puzzle  their  heads  with  plots  and  schemes  about  a  con- 
viction ;  they  need  neither  bribe  a  witness,  corrupt  a  judge, 
nor  pack  a  jury.  Familiar  as  such  good  actions  are  to  them, 
then  task  will  still  be  easier  here.  Tell  them  this ;  and  tell 
them  also  that  the  score  they  must  one  day  be  prepared  to 
settle  would  be  lighter  if  Joe  Curtis  was  the  last  man  they 
had  sent  innocently  to  the  scaffold." 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL  EVIDENCE.  165 

As  though  he  had  disburdened  his  mind  by  this  bitter 
speech,  Curtis  never  again  adverted  to  the  dreadful  accusa- 
tion against  hirn.  He  was  committed  to  Newgate  ;  and  while 
treated  with  a  certain  deference  to  his  position  in  life,  he 
never  relaxed  in  the  stern  and  unbending  resolve  neither  to 
accept  any  favor,  nor  even  avail  himself  of  the  ordinary 
means  of  legal  defence. 

"  Prison  diet  and  a  straw  mattress  !  "  cried  he  ;  "  such  you 
cannot  deny  me ;  and  they  will  be  the  extent  of  the  favors 
I  '11  receive  at  your  hands." 

As  the  day  fixed  for  the  trial  approached,  the  popular  ex- 
citement rose  to  a  high  degree.  Curtis  was  not  a  favorite 
even  with  his  own  party ;  his  temper  was  sour,  and  his  dis- 
position unconciliatory  ;  so  that  even  by  the  Liberal  press, 
his  name  was  mentioned  with  little  sympathy  or  regard. 
Besides  this  feeling,  there  was  another,  and  a  far  more 
dangerous  one,  then  abroad.  The  lower  classes  had  been 
of  late  reflected  on  severely  for  the  crimes  which  disgraced 
the  county  calendars,  and  the  opportunity  of  retaliating 
against  the  gently,  by  a  case  which  involved  one  of  their 
order,  was  not  to  be  neglected.  While,  therefore,  the  daily 
papers  accumulated  a  variety  of  strange  and  seemingly  con- 
vincing circumstances,  the  street  literature  did  not  scruple 
to  go  further,  and  Curtis  was  the  theme  of  many  a  ballad, 
wherein  his  guilt  was  depicted  in  all  the  glowing  colors 
of  verse. 

It  is  one  of  the  gravest  inconveniences  which  accompany 
the  liberty  of  free  discussion  that  an  accused  man  is  put 
upon  his  trial  before  the  bar  of  public  opinion,  and  his  guilt 
or  innocence  pronounced  upon,  long  before  he  takes  his 
place  in  presence  of  his  real  judges ;  and  although,  in  the 
main,  popular  opinion  is  rarely  wrong,  still  there  are  mo- 
ments of  rash  enthusiasm,  periods  of  misguided  zeal  or 
unbridled  bigotry,  in  which  such  decisions  are  highly  peril- 
ous. Too  frequently,  also,  will  circumstances  quite  foreign 
to  the  matter  at  issue  be  found  to  influence  the  opinions 
expressed  upon  it. 

So  far  had  the  popular  verdict  gone  against  the  accused  in 
the  present  case  that  there  was  a  considerable  time  spenl  on 
the  morning  of  the  trial,  before  a  jury  could  be  empanelled 


166  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

which  should  not  include  any  one  who  had  already  pro- 
nounced strongly  on  the  case. 

Curtis,  as  I  have  mentioned,  declined  all  means  of  defence ; 
he  thought,  or  affected  to  think,  that  every  member  of  the 
bar  was  open  to  Government  corruption,  and  that  as  the 
whole  was  an  organized  plot  for  his  destruction,  resistance 
was  perfectly  vain  and  useless.  When  asked,  therefore,  to 
whom  he  had  intrusted  his  case,  he  advanced  to  the  front  of 
the  dock,  and  said:  "  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  the  disagree- 
able duties  you  are  sworn  to  discharge  shall  not  be  pro- 
tracted by  anything  on  my  part.  Whatever  falsehoods  the 
counsel  for  the  Crown  may  advance,  and  the  witnesses  swear 
to,  shall  meet  neither  denial  nor  refutation  from  me.  The 
Castle  scoundrels  shall  play  the  whole  game  themselves,  and 
whenever  you  agree  '  what 's  to  pay,'  I  '11  settle  the  score 
without  flinching." 

This  extraordinary  address,  uttered  in  a  tone  of  half- 
savage  jocularity,  excited  a  strange  mixture  of  emotion  in 
those  who  heard  it,  which  ultimately  ended  in  half -subdued 
laughter  throughout  the  court,  repressing  which  at  once,  the 
judge  gravely  reprimanded  the  prisoner  for  the  aspersions 
he  had  thrown  on  the  administration  of  justice,  and  ap- 
pointed one  of  the  most  distinguished  members  of  the  bar 
to  conduct  his  defence. 

It  was  late  in  the  day  when  the  Crown  counsel  rose  to 
open  his  case.  His  address  was  calm  and  dispassionate. 
It  was  divested  of  what  might  seem  to  be  any  ungenerous 
allusion  to  the  peculiar  character  or  temperament  of  the 
accused,  but  it  promised  an  amount  of  circumstantial  evi- 
dence which,  were  the  credit  of  the  witnesses  to  stand 
unimpeached,  would  be  almost  impossible  to  reconcile  with 
anything  short  of  the  guilt  of  the  prisoner  in  the  dock. 

"  We  shall  show  you,  gentlemen  of  the  jury,"  said  he, 
"  first  of  all  that  there  was  a  manifest  motive  for  this 
crime,  —  at  least,  what  to  a  man  of  the  prisoner's  temper 
and  passions  might  adequately  represent  a  motive.  We 
shall  produce  evidence  before  you  to  prove  his  arrival 
secretly  in  Dublin,  where  he  lodged  in  an  obscure  and  little- 
frequented  locality,  avoiding  all  occasion  of  recognition, 
and  passing  under  an  assumed  name.     We  shall  show  you 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL   EVIDENCE.  167 

that  on  each  evening  be  was  accustomed  to  visit  an  ac- 
quaintance—  a  solicitor,  whom  we  shall  produce  on  the 
table  — whose  house  is  situated  at  the  very  opposite  end  of 
the  city ;  returning  from  which,  it  was  his  habit  to  pass 
through  Stephen's  Green,  and  that  he  took  this  path  on  the 
night  of  the  murder,  having  parted  from  his  friend  a  little 
before  midnight.  We  shall  next  show  you  that  the  traces 
of  the  footsteps  correspond  exactly  with  his  boots,  even  to 
certain  peculiarities  in  their  make.  And,  lastly,  we  shall 
prove  his  immediate  and  secret  departure  from  the  capital 
on  this  very  night  in  question ;  his  retirement  to  a  distant 
part  of  the  country,  where  he  remained  till  within  a  few  days 
previous  to  his  arrest. 

"  Such  are  the  brief  outlines  of  a  case,  the  details  of 
which  will  comprise  a  vast  number  of  circumstances,  — 
slight,  perhaps,  and  trivial  individually,  but  which,  taken 
collectively,  and  considered  in  regard  to  then-  bearing  on  the 
matter  before  us,  will  make  up  a  mass  of  evidence  that  the 
most  sceptical  cannot  reject. 

"  Although  it  may  not  be  usual  to  advert  to  the  line  of 
conduct  which  the  prisoner  has  adopted,  in  refusing  to  name 
a  counsel  for  his  defence,  I  cannot  avoid  warning  the  jury 
that  such  a  course  may  bear  an  interpretation  very  remote 
from  that  which  at  first  sight  it  seems  to  convey.  He  would 
wish  you  to  accept  this  position  as  the  strongest  evidence 
of  innocence ;  as  if,  relying  on  the  justice  of  his  cause, 
he  requires  neither  guidance  nor  counsel ! 

bi  It  will  be  for  you,  gentlemen,  to  determine  if  the  evi- 
dence placed  before  you  admit  of  such  a  construction ;  or 
whether,  on  the  contrary,  it  be  not  of  such  a  nature  that 
would  foil  the  skill  of  the  craftiest  advocate  to  shake,  and 
be  more  effectually  rebutted  by  a  general  and  vague  denial, 
than  by  any  systematic  endeavors  to  impeach. 

"  You  are  not,  therefore,  to  accept  this  rejection  of  aid  as 
by  any  means  a  proof  of  conscious  innocence.  Far  from  it. 
The  more  correct  reading  might  show  it  to  be  the  crafty 
policy  of  a  man  who  throughout  his  whole  life  has  been  as 
remarkable  for  self-reliance  as  for  secrecy;  who,  confiding 
in  his  own  skill  to  direct  him  in  the  most  difficult  circum- 
stances, places  far  more  reliance  on  his  personal  adroitness 


168  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

than  upon  the  most  practised  advocacy ;  and  whose  depre- 
ciatory estimate  of  mankind  is  but  the  gloomy  reflection  of 
a  burdened  conscience." 

It  was  so  late  when  the  counsel  had  concluded  that  the 
court  adjourned  its  proceedings  till  the  following  morning ; 
and  the  vast  assembly  which  thronged  the  building  dispersed, 
deeply  impressed  with  the  weighty  charge  against  the  pris- 
oner, and  with  far  less  of  sympathy  than  is  usually  accorded 
to  those  who  stand  in  like  predicament. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

AN   UNLOOKED-FOR   DISCLOSURE. 

On  the  second  day  of  the  trial,  the  court-house  was  even 
more  densely  crowded  than  on  the  first.  The  rank  and  sta- 
tion which  the  accused  had  held  in  society,  as  well  as  the 
mysterious  character  of  the  case  itself,  had  invested  the 
event  with  an  uncommon  interest ;  and  long  before  the  doors 
were  opened,  a  vast  concourse  filled  the  streets,  amidst  which 
were  to  be  seen  the  equipages  of  many  of  the  first  people  of 
the  country. 

Scarcely  had  the  judges  taken  their  places,  when  every 
seat  in  the  court  was  occupied,  —  the  larger  proportion  of 
which  displayed  the  rank  and  beauty  of  the  capital,  who  now 
thronged  to  the  spot,  all  animated  with  the  most  eager  curios- 
ity, and  speculating  on  the  result  in  a  spirit  which,  whatever 
anxiety  it  involved,  as  certainly  evinced  little  real  sympathy 
for  the  fate  of  the  prisoner.  The  bold,  defiant  tone  which 
Curtis  had  always  assumed  in  the  world  had  made  him  but 
few  friends,  even  with  his  own  party ;  his  sneering,  caustic 
manner  had  rendered  him  unpopular ;  few  could  escape  his 
censures,  —  none  his  sarcasms.  It  would,  indeed,  have  been 
difficult  to  discover  one  for  whom  less  personal  interest  was 
felt  than  for  the  individual  who  that  morning  stood  erect  in 
the  dock,  and  with  a  calm  but  stern  expression  regarded  the 
bench  and  the  jury-box. 

As  the  court  continued  to  fill,  Curtis  threw  his  eyes  here 
and  there  over  the  crowded  assemblage,  but  in  no  wise  dis- 
concerted by  the  universal  gaze  of  which  he  was  the  object. 
On  the  contrary,  he  nodded  familiarly  to  some  acquaintances 
at  a  distance ;  and,  recognizing  one  whom  he  knew  well  in 
the  gallery  over  his  head,  he  called  out,  — 


170  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

"  How  are  you,  Ruxton?  Let  me  advise  you  to  change 
your  bootmaker,  or  I  would  n't  say  that  the  Crown  lawyers 
won't  put  you,  one  day,  where  I  stand  now !  " 

The  laugh  which  followed  this  sally  was  scarcely  repressed, 
when  the  trial  began.  The  first  witness  produced  was  a  cer- 
tain Joseph  Martin,  the  solicitor  at  whose  house  Curtis  had 
passed  the  evening  on  which  the  murder  was  committed. 
His  evidence,  of  course,  could  throw  little  or  no  light  upon 
the  event,  and  merely  went  to  establish  the  fact  that  Curtis 
had  stayed  with  him  till  nigh  midnight,  and  left  him  about 
that  hour  to  proceed  to  his  home.  Wheu  questioned  as  to 
the  prisoner's  manner  and  general  bearing  during  that  even- 
ing, he  replied  that  he  could  detect  nothing  strange  or  un- 
usual in  it ;  that  he  talked  pretty  much  as  he  always  did,  and 
upon  the  same  topics. 

"  Did  he  allude  to  the  Government,  or  to  any  of  its  offi- 
cials? "  was  then  asked ;  and,  before  a  reply  could  be  given, 
Curtis  cried  out,  — 

"Yes.  I  told  Martin  that  if  the  scoundrels  who  rule  us 
should  ouly  continue  their  present  game,  nobody  could  regret 
the  ruin  of  a  country  that  was  a  disgrace  to  live  in.  Did  n't 
I  say  that?" 

"  I  must  remind  you,  sir,"  interposed  the  judge,  gravely, 
"  how  seriously  such  conduct  as  this  is  calculated  to  preju- 
dice the  character  of  your  defence." 

"  Defence!  my  Lord,"  broke  in  Curtis,  "when  did  I  ever 
think  of  a  defence?  The  gentlemen  of  the  jury  have  heard 
me  more  plainly  than  your  Lordship.  I  told  them,  as  I  now 
tell  you,  that  innocence  is  no  protection  to  a  man  when 
hunted  down  by  legal  bloodhounds  ;  that  —  " 

"  I  must  enforce  silence  upon  you,  sir,  if  I  cannot  induce 
caution,"  said  the  judge,  solemnly;  "you  may  despise  your 
own  safety,  but  you  must  respect  this  court." 

"  You  '11  find  that  even  a  more  difficult  lesson  to  teach  me, 
my  Lord.  I  can  remember  some  eight-and-forty  years  of 
what  is  called  the  administration  of  justice  in  Ireland.  I  am 
old  enough  to  remember  when  you  hanged  a  priest  who  mar- 
ried a  Protestant,  and  disbarred  the  lawyer  that  defended 
him." 

"Be    silent,    sir,"    said   the   judge,   in  a   voice   of  com- 


AN   UNLOOKED-FOR   DISCLOSURE.  171 

mand  ;  and  with  difficulty  was  Curtis  induced  to  obey  the 
admonition. 

As  the  trial  proceeded,  it  was  remarked  that  Colonel 
Vereker  was  seen  in  close  communication  with  one  of  the 
Crown  lawyers,  who  soon  afterwards  begged  to  tender  him 
as  a  witness  for  the  prosecution.  The  proposal  itself  and 
the  object  it  contained  were  made  the  subject  of  a  very  ani- 
mated discussion  ;  and  although  the  testimony  offered  seemed 
of  the  greatest  importance,  the  court  decided  that  it  was  of  a 
kind  which,  according  to  the  strict  rules  of  evidence,  could 
not  be  received. 

"Then  you  may  rely  upon  it,  gentlemen  of  the  jury," 
cried  Curtis,  "  it  is  favorable  to  me." 

"  Let  me  assure  you,  sir,  to  the  contrary,"  said  the  judge, 
mildly,  "  and  that  it  is  with  a  jealous  regard  for  your 
interest  we  have  agreed  not  to  accept  this  evidence." 

"  And  have  you  had  no  respect  for  poor  Vereker,  my 
Lord  ?  He  looks  as  if  he  really  would  like  to  tell  the  truth 
for  once  in  his  life." 

"  If  Colonel  Vereker's  evidence  cannot  be  admitted  upon 
this  point,  my  Lord,"  said  the  Crown  lawyer,  "  there  is 
yet  another,  in  which  it  is  all-essential.  He  was  one  of 
those  who  stood  beside  Rutledge  on  the  balcony  when  the 
words  were  uttered  which  attracted  his  notice.  The  tone  of 
voice,  and  the  manner  in  which  they  were  uttered,  made  a 
deep  impression  upon  him,  and  he  is  fully  persuaded  that 
they  were  spoken  by  the  prisoner  in  the  dock." 

"Let  us  listen  to  him  about  that,"  said  Curtis,  who 
now  bestowed  a  more  marked  attention  to  the  course  of  the 
proceeding.  Vereker  was  immediately  sworn,  and  his 
examination  began.  He  detailed  with  great  clearness  the 
circumstances  which  preceded  the  fatal  event,  and  the  nature 
of  the  conversation  on  the  balcony,  till  he  came  to  that  part 
where  the  interruption  from  the  street  took  place.  "  There," 
lie  said,  "  I  cannot  trust  my  memory  as  to  the  words 
employed  by  Rutledge,  although  I  am  confident  as  to  the 
phrase  used  in  rejoinder,  and  equally  certain  as  to  the  voice 
of  him  who  uttered  it." 

"You  mean  to  say,"  said  the  judge,  "that  you  have 
recognized  that  voice  as  belonging  to  the  prisoner." 


172  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

"  I  mean  to  say,  my  Lord,  that  were  I  to  hear  him  utter 
the  same  words  in  an  excited  tone,  I  should  be  able  to 
swear  to  them." 

"  That's  a  lie !  "  cried  Curtis. 

"  These  were  the  words,  and  that  the  voice,  my  Lord,"  said 
Vereker ;  and  as  he  spoke,  a  deep  murmur  of  agitated  feeling 
rang  through  the  crowded  court. 

"By  Heaven!"  cried  Curtis,  in  a  tone  of  passionate 
excitement,  "  I  hold  my  life  as  cheaply  as  any  man;  but  I 
cannot  see  it  taken  away  by  the  breath  of  a  false  witness : 
let  me  interrogate  this  man."  In  vain  was  it  that  the  prac- 
tised counsel  appointed  to  conduct  his  case  interposed,  and 
entreated  of  him  to  be  silent.  To  no  purpose  did  they  beg 
of  him  to  leave  in  their  hands  the  difficult  game  of  cross- 
examination.  He  rejected  their  advice  as  haughtily  as  he 
had  refused  their  services,  and  at  once  addressed  himself  to 
the  critical  task. 

"  With  whom  had  you  dined,  sir,  on  the  day  in  question,  — 
the  7th  of  June?"  asked  he  of  Vereker. 

"  I  dined  with  Sir  Marcus  Hutchinson." 

' '  There  was  a  large  party  ?  " 

"  There  was." 

"Tell  us,  so  far  as  you  remember,  the  names  of  the 
guests." 

"  Some  were  strangers  to  me,  —  from  England,  I  believe ; 
but  of  those  I  knew  before,  I  can  call  to  mind  Leonard  Fox, 
Hamilton  Gore,  John  Fortescue,  and  his  brother  Edward, 
Tom  Beresford,  and  poor  Rutledge." 

"  It  was  a  convivial  party,  and  you  drank  freely?  " 

"  Freely,  but  not  to  excess." 

"  You  dined  at  five  o'clock?  " 

"  At  half-after  five." 

"  And  rose  from  table  about  eleven?  " 

"  About  that  hour." 

' '  There  were  speeches  made  and  toasts  drunk,  I 
believe  ?  " 

"  There  were,  —  a  few." 

"  The  toasts  and  the  speeches  were  of  an  eminently  loyal 
character ;  they  all  redounded  to  the  honor  and  credit  of  the 
Government?" 


AN  UNLOOKED-FOR  DISCLOSURE.  173 

"  Highly  so." 

"  And  as  strikingly  did  they  reflect  upon  the  character  of 
all  Irishmen  who  opposed  the  ministry,  and  assumed  for 
themselves  the  position  of  patriots.  Come,  sir,  no  hesita- 
tion;   answer  my  question  boldly.     Is  this  not  true?" 

"We  certainly  did  not  regard  the  party  you  speak  of  as 
being  true  and  faithful  subjects  of  the  king." 

"  You  thought  them  rebels?  " 

"  Perhaps  not  exactly  rebels." 

' '  You  called  them  rebels  ;  and  you  yourself  prayed  that 
the  time  was  coming  when  the  lamp-iron  and  the  lash  should 
reward  their  loyalty.     Can  you  deny  this  ?  " 

"We  had  a  great  deal  of  conversation  about  politics. 
We  talked  in  all  the  freedom  of  friendly  intercourse,  and, 
doubtless,  with  some  of  that  warmth  which  accompanies 
after-dinner  discussions.     But  as  to  the  exact  words  —  " 

' l  It  is  the  exact  words  I  want ;  it  is  the  exact  words  I 
insist  upon,  sir.  They  were  used  by  yourself,  and  drew  down 
rounds  of  applause.     You  were  eloquent  and  successful." 

"  I  am  really  unable,  at  this  distance  of  time,  to  recollect 
a  word  or  a  phrase  that  might  have  fallen  from  me  in  the 
heat  of  the  moment." 

"  This  speech  of  yours  was  made  about  the  middle  of  the 
evening?  " 

"  I  believe  it  was." 

"And  you  afterwards  sat  a  considerable  time  and  drank 
freely  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  although  your  recollection  of  what  passed  before 
that  is  so  obscure  and  inaccurate,  you  perfectly  remember 
everything  that  took  place  when  standing  on  the  balcony  two 
hours  later,  and  can  swear  to  the  very  tone  of  a  voice  that 
uttered  but  three  words  :  '  That  is  a  lie,  sir ! '  " 

"  Prisoner  at  the  bar,  conduct  yourself  with  the  respect 
due  to  the  court  and  to  the  witness  under  its  protection," 
interposed  the  judge,  with  severity. 

"You  mistake  me,  my  Lord,"  said  Curtis,  in  a  voice  of 
affected  deprecation.  "The  words  I  spoke  were  not  used 
as  commenting  on  the  witness  or  his  veracity.  They  were 
simply  those  to  which  he  swore,  those  which  he  heard  once, 


174  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

and,  although  after  a  five  hours'  debauch,  remained  fast 
graven  on  his  memory,  along  with  the  very  manner  of  him 
who  uttered  them.  I  have  nothing  more  to  ask  him.  He 
may  go  down — down!  "  repeated  he,  solemnly;  "if  there 
be  yet  anythiug  lower  that  he  can  descend  to !  " 

Once  more  did  the  judge  admonish  the  prisoner  as  to  his 
conduct,  and  feelingly  pointed  out  to  him  the  serious  injury 
he  was  inflicting  upon  his  own  case  by  this  rash  and  intem- 
perate course  of  proceeding ;  but  Curtis  smiled  half  con- 
temptuously at  the  correction,  and  folded  his  arms  with  an 
air  of  dogged  resignation. 

It  is  rarely  possible,  from  merely  reading  the  published 
proceedings  of  a  trial,  to  apportion  the  due  degree  of  weight 
which  the  testimony  of  the  several  witnesses  imposes,  or  to 
estimate  that  force  which  manner  and  conduct  supply  to  the 
evidence  when  orally  delivered.  In  the  present  case,  the 
guilt  of  the  accused  man  rested  on  the  very  vaguest  circum- 
stances, not  one  of  which  but  could  be  easily  and  satisfac- 
torily accounted  for  on  other  grounds.  He  admitted  that 
he  had  passed  through  Stephen's  Green  on  the  night  in 
question,  and  that  possibly  the  tracks  imputed  to  him  were 
actually  his  own  ;  but  as  to  the  reasons  for  his  abrupt  de- 
parture from  town,  or  the  secrecy  which  he  observed  when 
writing  to  the  bootmaker,  —  these,  he  said,  were  personal 
matters  which  he  would  not  condescend  to  enter  upon,  add- 
ing, sarcastically,  — 

"That  though  they  might  not  prove  very  damning  omis- 
sions in  defence  of  a  hackney-coach  summons,  he  was  quite 
aware  that  they  might  prove  fatal  to  a  man  who  stood 
charged  with  murder." 

After  a  number  of  witnesses  were  examined,  whose  testi- 
mony went  to  prove  slight  and  unimportant  facts,  Anthony 
Fagan  was  called  to  show  that  a  variety  of  bill  transactions 
had  passed  between  the  prisoner  and  Rutledge,  and  that  on 
more  than  one  occasion  very  angry  discussions  had  occurred 
between  them  in  reference  to  these. 

There  were  many  points  in  which  Fagan  sympathized  with 
the  prisoner.  Curtis  was  violently  national  in  his  politics ; 
he  bore  an  unmeasured  hatred  to  all  that  was  English ;  he 
was  an  extravagant  asserter   of   popular   rights :  and   yet, 


AN   UNLOOKED-FOR   DISCLOSURE.  175 

with  all  these,  and,  stranger  still,  with  a  coarse  manner, 
and  an  address  totally  destitute  of  polish,  he  was  in  heart 
a  haughty  aristocrat,  who  despised  the  people  most  thor- 
oughly. He  was  one  of  that  singular  class  who  seemed  to 
retain  to  the  very  last  years  of  the  past  century  the  feudal 
barbarism    of  a  bygone  age. 

Thus  was  it  that  the  party  who  accepted  his  advocacy  had 
to  pay  the  price  of  his  services  in  deep  humiliation  ;  and 
many  there  were  who  felt  that  the  work  was  more  than 
requited  by  the  wages. 

To  meu  like  Fagan,  whose  wealth  suggested  various  ambi- 
tions, Curtis  was  peculiarly  offensive,  since  he  never  omitted 
an  occasion  to  remind  them  of  their  origin,  and  to  show 
them  that  they  were  as  utterly  debarred  from  all  social 
acceptance  as  in  the  earliest  struggles  of  their  poverty. 

The  majority  of  those  in  court,  who  only  knew  generally 
the  agreement  between  Curtis  and  Fagan  in  political  matters, 
were  greatly  struck  by  the  decisive  tone  in  which  the  witness 
spoke;  and  the  damaging  character  of  the  evidence  was 
increased  by  this  circumstance. 

Among  the  scenes  of  angry  altercation  between  the  pris- 
oner and  Rutledge,  Fagan  spoke  to  one  wherein  Curtis  had 
actually  called  the  other  a  "  swindler."  Rutledge,  however, 
merely  remarked  upon  the  liberties  which  his  advanced  age 
entitled  him  to  assume;  whereupon  Curtis  replied,  "Don't 
talk  to  me,  sir,  of  age !  I  am  young  enough  and  able  enough 
to  chastise  such  as  you  !  " 

"  Did  the  discussion  end  here?  "  asked  the  court. 

"So  far  as  I  know,  my  Lord,  it  did;  for  Mr.  Rutledge 
left  my  office  soon  after,  and  apparently  thinking  little  of 
what  had  occurred." 

"If  honest  Tony  had  not  been  too  much  engrossed  with 
the  cares  of  usury,"  cried  out  Curtis  from  the  dock,  "he 
might  have  remembered  that  I  said  to  Rutledge,  as  he  went 
out,  '  The  man  that  injures  Joe  Curtis  owes  a  debt  that  ho 
must  pay  sooner  or  latter.'  " 

"  I  remember  the  words  now,"  said  Fagan. 

"Ay,  and  so  have  I  ever  found  it,"  said  Curtis,  solemnly. 
"  There  are  few  who  have  gone  through  life  with  less  good 


176  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

fortune  than  myself,  and  yet  I  have  lived  to  see  the  ruin  of 
almost  every  man  that  has  injured  me  !  " 

The  savage  vehemence  with  which  he  uttered  these  words 
caused  a  shudder  throughout  the  crowded  court,  and  went 
even  further  to  criminate  him  in  popular  opinion  than  all 
that  had  been  alleged  in  evidence. 

When  asked  by  the  court  if  he  desired  to  cross-examine 
the  witness,  Curtis,  in  a  calm  and  collected  voice,  replied  : 

"No,  my  Lord  ;  Tony  Fagan  will  lose  a  hundred  and 
eighty  pounds  if  you  hang  me ;  and  if  he  had  anything  to 
allege  in  my  favor,  we  should  have  heard  it  before  this." 
Then,  turning  towards  the  jury-box,  he  went  on:  "  Now, 
gentlemen  of  the  jury,  there  's  little  reason  for  detaining  you 
any  longer.  You  have  as  complete  a  case  of  circumstantial 
evidence  before  you  as  ever  sent  an  innocent  man  to  the 
scaffold.  You  have  had  the  traits  of  my  temper  and  the 
tracks  of  my  boots,  and,  if  you  believe  Colonel  Vereker, 
the  very  tones  of  my  voice,  all  sworn  to ;  but,  better  than  all 
these,  you  have  at  your  disposal  the  life  of  a  man  who  is  too 
sick  of  the  world  to  stretch  out  a  hand  to  save  himself,  and 
who  would  even  accept  the  disgrace  of  an  ignominious  death 
for  the  sake  of  the  greater  ignominy  that  is  sure  to  fall  later 
upon  the  unjust  laws  and  the  corrupt  court  that  condemned 
him.  Ay !  "  cried  he,  with  an  impressive  solemnity  of  voice 
that  thrilled  through  every  heart,  "you'll  array  yourselves 
in  all  the  solemn  mockery  of  your  station  ;  you  '11  bewail 
my  guilt,  and  pronounce  my  sentence ;  but  it  is  I,  from  this 
dock,  say  unto  you  upon  that  bench,  the  Lord  have  mercy 
upon  your  souls !  " 

There  was  in  the  energy  of  his  manner,  despite  all  its 
eccentricity  and  quaintness,  a  degree  of  power  that  awed 
the  entire  assembly ;  and  more  than  one  trembled  to  think, 
"  What  if  he  really  were  to  be  innocent !  " 

While  this  singular  address  was  being  delivered,  Fagan 
was  engaged  in  deep  and  earnest  conversation  with  the 
Crown  prosecutor ;  and  from  his  excited  manner  might  be 
seen  the  intense  anxiety  under  which  he  labored.  He  was 
evidently  urging  some  proposition  with  all  his  might,  to 
which  the  other  listened  with  deep  attention. 


AN  UNLOOKED-FOR   DISCLOSURE.  177 

At  this  instant  Fagan's  arm  was  tapped  by  a  hand  from 
the  crowd.  He  turned,  and  as  suddenly  grew  deadly  pale ; 
for  it  was  Raper  stood  before  him !  —  Raper,  whom  he 
believed  at  that  moment  to  be  far  away  in  a  remote  part 
of  the  country. 

"What  brings  you  here?  How  came  you  to  Dublin?" 
said  Fagan,  in  a  voice  tremulous  with  passion. 

"We  have  just  arrived;  we  heard  that  you  were  here, 
and  he  insisted  upon  seeing  you  before  he  left  town." 

"  "Where  is  he,  then?  "  asked  Fagan. 

"  In  his  carriage  at  the  door  of  the  court-house." 

"Does  he  know  —  has  he  heard  of  the  case  before  the 
court?  Speak,  man!  Is  he  aware  of  what  is  going  on 
here  ?  " 

The  terrified  eagerness  of  his  whisper  so  overcame  poor 
Raper  that  he  was  utterly  unable  to  reply,  and  Fagan  was 
obliged  to  clutch  him  by  the  arm  to  recall  him  to  conscious- 
ness. Even,  then,  however,  his  vague  and  broken  answer 
showed  how  completely  his  faculties  were  terrorized  over  by 
the  despotic  influence  of  his  master.  An  indistinct  sense  of 
having  erred  somehow  overcame  him,  and  he  shrank  back 
from  the  piercing  glance  of  the  other,  to  hide  himself  in  the 
crowd.  Terrible  as  that  moment  of  suspense  must  have 
been  to  Fagan,  it  was  nothing  to  the  agony  which  succeeded 
it,  as  he  saw  the  crowd  separating  on  either  side  to  leave 
a  free  passage  for  the  approach  of  an  invalid  who  slowly 
came  forward  to  the  side-bar,  casting  his  eyes  around  him, 
in  half-bewildered  astonishment  at  the  scene. 

Being  recognized  by  the  Bench,  an  usher  of  the  court 
wus  sent  round  to  say  that  their  Lordships  would  make  room 
for  him  beside  them  ;  and  my  father  —  for  it  was  he  —  with 
difficulty  mounted  the  steps  and  took  his  seat  beside  the 
Chief  Justice,  faintly  answering  the  kind  inquiries  for  his 
health  in  a  voice  weak  and  feeble  as  a  girl's. 

"You  little  expected  to  see  me  in  such  a  place  as  this. 
Walter!"  cried  out  Curtis  from  the  dock;  "and  I  just  as 
little  looked  to  see  your  father's  son  seated  upon  the  bench 
at  such  a  moment !  " 

"What  is  it?  What  does  it  all  mean?  How  is  Curtis 
there?  What  has  happened?"  asked  my  father,  vaguely. 

12 


178  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

The  Chief  Justice  whispered  a  few  words  in  reply,  when, 
with  a  shriek  that  made  every  heart  cold,  my  father  sprang 
to  his  feet,  and,  leaning  his  body  over  the  front  of  the 
bench,  cried  out,  — 

"  It  was  I  killed  Barry  Rutledge  !  There  was  no  murder 
in  the  case  !  We  fought  with  swords ;  and  there,"  said  he, 
drawing  the  weapon,  "there's  the  blade  that  pierced  his 
heart!  and  here  "  (tearing  open  his  vest  and  shirt)  —  "  and 
here  the  wound  he  gave  me  in  return.  The  outrage  for 
which  he  died  well  merited  the  penalty;  but  if  there  be 
guilt,  it  is  mine,  and  mine  only !  " 

A  fit  of  choking  stopped  his  utterance.  He  tried  to  over- 
come it ;  he  gasped  convulsively  twice  or  thrice ;  and  then, 
as  a  cataract  of  bright  blood  gushed  from  nostrils  and  mouth 
together,  he  fell  back  and  rolled  heavily  to  the  ground  — 
dead. 

So  exhausted  was  nature  by  this  last  effort  that  the  body 
was  cold  within  an  hour  after. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

a  friend's  trials. 

The  day  of  my  beloved  father's  funeral  was  that  of  my  birth ! 
It  is  not  improbable  that  he  had  often  looked  forward  to 
that  day  as  the  crowning  event  of  his  whole  life,  destining 
great  rejoicings,  and  planning  every  species  of  festivity  ; 
and  now  the  summer  clouds  were  floating  over  the  church- 
yard, and  the  gay  birds  were  carolling  over  the  cold  grave 
where  he  lay. 

What  an  emblem  of  human  anticipation,  and  what  an 
illustration  of  his  own  peculiar  destiny !  Few  men  ever 
entered  upon  life  with  more  brilliant  prospects.  With  nearly 
every  gift  of  fortune,  and  not  one  single  adverse  circumstance 
to  struggle  against,  he  was  scarcely  launched  upon  the  ocean 
of  life  ere  he  was  shipwrecked  !  Is  it  not  ever  thus  ?  Is  it 
not  that  the  storms  and  seas  of  adverse  fortune  are  our  best 
preservatives  in  this  world,  by  calling  into  activity  our  powers 
of  energy  and  of  endurance?  Are  we  not  better  when  our 
lot  demands  effort,  and  exacts  sacrifice,  than  when  pros- 
perity neither  evokes  an  uugratified  wish,  nor  suggests  a 
difficult  ambition? 

The  real  circumstances  of  his  death  were,  I  believe,  never 
known  to  my  mother,  but  the  shock  of  the  event  almost  killed 
her.  Her  cousin,  Emile  de  Gabriac,  had  just  arrived  at 
Castle  Carew,  and  they  were  sitting  talking  over  France  ami 
all  its  pleasant  associations,  when  a  servant  entered  hastily 
with  a  letter  for  MacNaghten.  It  was  in  Fagan's  hand- 
writing, and  marked  "  Most  private,  and  with  haste." 

"  See,"  cried  Dan,  laughing,  —  "  look  what  devices  a  dun 
is  reduced  to,  to  obtain  an  audience  !  Tony  Fagan,  so  secret 
and  so  urgent  on  the  outside,  will  be  candid  enough  within, 
and  beg  respectfully  to  remind    Mr.    MacNaghten  that  hia 


180  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

indorsement  for  two  hundred  and  something  pounds  will 
fall  due  on  Wednesday  next,  when  he  hopes  —  " 

"  Let  us  see  what  he  hopes,"  cried  my  mother,  snatching 
the  letter  from  him,  "  for  it  surely  cannot  be  that  he  hopes 
you  will  pay  it." 

The  terrific  cry  she  uttered,  as  her  eyes  read  the  dread- 
ful lines,  rang  through  that  vast  building.  Shriek  followed 
shriek  in  quick  succession  for  some  seconds ;  and  then,  as  if 
exhausted  nature  could  no  more,  she  sank  into  a  death- like 
trance,  cold,  motionless,  and  unconscious. 

Poor  MacNaghten !  I  have  heard  him  more  than  once 
say  that  if  he  were  to  live  five  hundred  years,  he  never 
could  forget  the  misery  of  that  day,  so  graven  upon  his 
memory  was  every  frightful  and  harrowing  incident  of  it. 
He  left  Castle  Carew  for  Dublin,  and  hastened  to  the  court- 
house, where,  in  one  of  the  judge's  robiug-rooms,  the  corpse 
of  his  poor  friend  now  lay.  A  hurried  inquest  had  been 
held  upon  the  body,  and  pronounced  that  "  Death  had  ensued 
from  natural  causes ;  "  and  now  the  room  was  crowded  with 
curious  and  idle  loungers,  talking  over  the  strange  event, 
and  commenting  upon  the  fate  of  him  who,  but  a  few  hours 
back,  so  many  would  have  envied. 

Having  excluded  the  throng,  he  sat  down  alone  beside  the 
body,  and,  with  the  cold  hand  clasped  between  his  own, 
wept  heartily. 

"  I  never  remember  to  have  shed  tears  before  in  my  life," 
said  he,  "  nor  could  I  have  done  so  then,  if  I  were  not  look- 
ing on  that  pale,  cold  face,  which  I  had  seen  so  often  lighted 
up  with  smiles ;  on  those  compressed  lips,  from  which  came 
so  many  words  of  kindness  and  affection ;  and  felt  within  my 
own  that  hand  that  never  till  now  had  met  mine  without  the 
warm  grasp  of  friendship." 

Poor  Dan !  he  was  my  father's  chief  mourner,  —  I  had 
almost  said  his  only  one.  Several  came  and  asked  leave  to 
see  the  body.  Many  were  visibly  affected  at  the  sight.  There 
was  decent  sorrow  on  ever}'  countenance ;  but  of  deep  and 
true  affliction  MacNaghten  was  the  solitary  instance. 

It  was  late  on  the  following  evening  as  MacNaghten,  who 
had  only  quitted  the  rooms  for  a  few  minutes,  found  on  his 
return  that  a  stranger  was  standing  beside  the  body. 


A  FRIEND'S  TRIALS.  181 

"  Ay,"  muttered  be,  solemnly,  "  the  green  and  the  healthy 
tree  cut  down,  and  the  old  sapless,  rotten  trunk  left  to 
linger  on  in  slow  decay  !  " 

"What!  Curtis,  is  this  you?"  cried  MacNaghten. 

"  Yes,  sir,  and  not  mine  the  fault  that  I  have  not  changed 
places  with  him  who  lies  there.  He  had  plenty  to  live  for ;  I 
nothing,  nor  any  one.  And  it  was  not  that  alone,  Mac- 
Naghten! "  added  he,  fiercely,  "but  think,  reflect  for  one 
moment  on  what  might  have  happened  had  they  condemned 
and  executed  me  !  Is  there  a  man  in  all  Ireland,  with  heart 
and  soul  in  him,  who  would  not  have  read  that  sentence  as 
an  act  of  Government  tyranny  and  vengeance?  Do  you 
believe  the  gentry  of  the  country  would  have  accepted  the 
act  as  an  accident,  or  do  you  think  that  the  people  would 
recognize  it  as  anything  else  than  a  murder  solemnized  by 
the  law?  And  if  love  of  country  could  not  stimulate  and 
awake  them,  is  it  not  possible  that  fears  for  personal  safety 
might?  " 

"  I  have  no  mind  for  such  thoughts  as  these,"  said  Mac- 
Naghten, sternly;  "nor  is  it  beside  the  cold  corpse  of  him 
who  lies  there  I  would  encourage  them.  If  you  come  to 
sorrow  over  him,  take  your  place  beside  me ;  if  to  speculate 
on  party  feuds  or  factious  dissensions,  then  I  beg  you  will 
leave  me  to  myself." 

Curtis  made  him  no  reply,  but  left  the  room  in  silence. 

There  were  some  legal  difficulties  raised  before  the  funeral 
could  be  performed.  The  circumstances  of  Rutledge's  death 
required  to  be  cleared  up;  and  Fagan  —  to  whom  my  father 
had  made  a  full  statement  of  the  whole  event  —  underwent 
a  long  and  close  examination  by  the  law  authorities  of  the 
Castle.  The  question  was  a  grave  one  as  regarded  property, 
since  if  a  charge  of  murder  could  have  been  substantiate!, 
the  whole  of  my  father's  fortune  would  have  been  confiscated 
to  the  Crown.  Fagan's  testimony,  too,  was  not  without  a 
certain  disqualification,  because  he  held  large  liens  over  the 
property,  and  must,  if  the  estate  were  estreated,  have  been  a 
considerable  loser.  These  questions  all  required  time  for  in- 
vestigation ;  but.  by  dint  of  great  energy  and  perseverance, 
MacNaghten  obtained  permission  for  the  burial,  which  took 
place  with  strict  privacy  at  the  small  churchyard  of  Killester, 


182  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

—  a  spot  which,  for  what  reason  I  am  unaware,  my  father 
had  himself  selected,  and  mention  of  which  desire  was 
found  amongst  his  papers. 

Fagan  accompanied  MacNaghten  to  the  funeral,  and  Dan 
returned  to  his  house  afterwards  to  breakfast.  Without  any 
sentiment  bordering  on  esteem  for  the  "Grinder,"  Mac- 
Naghten respected  him  generally  for  his  probity,  and  believed 
him  to  be  as  honorable  in  his  dealings  as  usury  and  money- 
lending  would  permit  any  man  to  be.  He  was  well  aware 
that  for  years  back  the  most  complicated  transactions  with 
regard  to  loans  had  taken  place  between  him  and  my 
father,  and  that  to  a  right  understanding  of  these  difficult 
matters,  and  a  satisfactory  adjustment  of  them,  nothing 
could  conduce  so  much  as  a  frank  intercourse  and  a  friendly 
bearing.  These  were  at  all  times  no  very  difficult  require- 
ments from  honest  Dan,  and  he  did  not  assume  them  now 
with  less  sincerity  or  willingness  that  they  were  to  be  prac- 
tised for  the  benefit  of  his  poor  friend's  widow  and  orphan. 

MacNaghten  could  not  help  remarking  that  Fagan's  man- 
ner, when  speaking  of  my  father's  affairs,  was  characterized 
by  a  more  than  common  caution  and  reserve,  and  that  he 
strenuously  avoided  entering  upon  anything  which  bore,  how- 
ever remotely,  upon  the  provision  my  mother  was  to  enjoy, 
or  what  arrangements  were  to  be  made  respecting  mj'self. 
There  was  a  will,  he  thought,  in  Crowther's  possession ;  but 
it  was  of  the  less  consequence,  since  the  greater  part,  nearly 
all,  of  the  Carew  property  was  under  the  strictest  entail. 

"  The  boy  will  be  rich,  one  of  the  richest  men  in  Ireland, 
if  he  lives,"  said  MacNaghten ;  but  Fagan  made  no  reply  for 
some  time,  and  at  last  said,  — 

"  If  there  be  not  good  sense  and  moderation  exercised  on 
all  sides,  the  Carews  may  gain  less  than  will  the  Court  of 
Chancery." 

MacNaghten  felt  far  from  reassured  by  the  cautious  and 
guarded  reserve  of  Fagan's  manner ;  he  saw  that  in  the  dry, 
sententious  tone  of  his  remarks  there  lurked  difficulties,  and 
perhaps  troubles ;  but  he  resolved  to  devote  himself  to  the 
task  before  him  in  a  spirit  of  patience  and  calm  industry 
which,  unhappily  for  him,  he  had  never  brought  to  bear 
upon  his  own  worldly  fortunes. 


A  FRIEND'S  TRIALS.  183 

"  There  is  nothing  either  obtrusive  or  impertinent,"  said  he, 
at  last,  to  Fagan,  "  in  rny  making  these  inquiries,  for,  inde- 
pendently of  poor  Walter's  affection  for  me,  I  know  that  he 
always  expected  me  to  take  the  management  of  his  affairs, 
should  I  survive  him ;  and  if  there  be  a  will,  it  is  almost 
certain  that  I  am  named  his  executor  in  it." 

Fagan  nodded  affirmatively,  and  merely  said,  — 

"  Crowther  will  be  able  to  clear  up  this  point." 

"  And  when  shall  we  see  him?" 

"He  is  in  the  country,  down  south,  I  think,  at  this  mo- 
ment ;  but  he  will  be  up  by  the  end  of  the  week.  However, 
there  are  so  many  things  to  be  done  that  his  absence  in- 
volves no  loss  of  time.  Where  shall  I  address  you,  if  I 
write  ?  " 

"I  shall  return  to  Castle  Carew  this  evening, and  in  all 
probability  remain  there  till  I  hear  from  you." 

"That  will  do,"  was  the  dry  answer;  and  MacNaghten 
took  his  leave,  more  than  ever  puzzled  by  the  Grinder's 
manner,  and  wondering  within  himself  in  what  shape  and 
from  what  quarter  might  come  the  storm,  which  he  con- 
vinced himself  could  not  be  distant. 

Grief  for  my  father's  death,  and  anxiety  for  my  poor 
mother's  fate,  were,  however,  the  uppermost  thoughts  in 
his  mind ;  and  as  he  drew  nigh  Castle  Carew,  his  heart  was 
so  much  overpowered  by  the  change  which  had  fallen  upon 
that  once  happy  home  that  he  totally  forgot  all  the  dark 
hints  and  menacing  intimations  of  his  late  interview. 

It  was  truly  a  gloom-stricken  mansion.  The  servants 
moved  about  sadly,  conversing  in  low  whispers ;  save  in  one 
quarter,  all  the  windows  were  closed,  and  the  rooms  locked 
up,  —  not  a  voice  nor  a  footstep  was  to  be  heard.  Mourn- 
ing and  woe  were  imprinted  on  every  face  and  in  every 
gesture.  MacNaghten  knew  not  where  to  go,  nor  where  to 
stay.  Every  chamber  he  entered  was  full  of  its  memories 
of  the  past,  and  he  wandered  on  from  room  to  room,  seek- 
ing some  spot  which  should  not  remind  him  of  days  whose 
happiness  could  never  return.  In  this  random  search  he 
suddenly  entered  the  chamber  where  M.  de  Gabriac  lay  at 
full  length  upon  a  sofa,  enjoying,  in  all  the  ease  of  a  loose 
dressing-gown,  the  united  pleasures  of  a  French  novel  and 


184  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

a  bottle  of  Bordeaux.  MacNaghten  would  willingly  have 
returned  at  once.  Such  a  scene  and  such  companionship 
were  not  to  his  taste ;  but  the  other  quickly  detected  him, 
and  called  out,  — 

"Ah!  M.  MacNaghten,  how  delighted  am  I  to  see  you 
again  !  What  days  of  misery  and  gloom  have  I  been  pass- 
ing here,  — no  one  to  speak  to,  none  to  sit  with." 

"It  is,  indeed,  a  sad  mansion,"  sighed  MacNaghten, 
heavily. 

"So,  then,  it  is  all  true?"  asked  the  other.  "Poor 
fellow,  what  a  sensitive  nature,  —  how  impressible.  To  die 
just  for  a  matter  of  sentiment ;  for,  after  all,  you  know  it 
was  a  sentiment,  nothing  else.  Every  man  has  had  his 
affairs  of  this  kind,  —  few  go  through  life  without  something 
unpleasant ;  but  one  does  not  die  broken-hearted  for  all  that. 
No,  %>arbleu,  that  is  a  very  poor  philosophy.  Tell  me  about 
the  duel ;  I  am  greatly  interested  to  hear  the  details." 

To  escape  as  far  as  possible  any  further  moralizings  of  his 
companion,  Dan  related  all  that  he  knew  of  the  fatal  ren- 
contre, answering,  so  well  as  he  might,  all  the  Frenchman's 
questions,  and,  at  the  same  time,  avoiding  all  reference  to 
the  provocation  which  led  to  the  meeting. 

"It  was  a  mistake,  a  great  mistake,  to  fight  in  this 
fashion,"  said  Gabriac,  coldly.  "  There  is  an  etiquette  to 
be  observed  in  a  duel,  as  in  a  dinner ;  and  you  can  no  more 
hurry  over  one  than  the  other,  without  suffering  for  it  after- 
wards. Maybe  these  are,  however,  the  habits  of  the 
country." 

MacNaghten  calmly  assured  him  that  they  were  not. 

"Then  the  offence  must  have  been  an  outrage,  —  what 
was  it?  " 

"Some  expression  of  gross  insult;  I  forget  the  exact 
nature  of  it." 

"  Poor  fellow  !  "  said  the  other,  sipping  his  wine,  "  with  so 
much  to  live  for, —  a  magnificent  chateau,  a  pretty  wife,  and 
a  good  fortune.     What  folly,  was  it  not?  " 

MacNaghten  afterwards  acknowledged  that  even  the 
Grinder's  sententious  dryness  was  preferable  to  the  heart- 
less indifference  of  the  Frenchman's  manner ;  but  a  defer- 
ential regard  for  her  whose  relative  he  was,  restrained  him 


A  FRIEND'S  TRIALS.  185 

from  all  angry  expression  of  feeling  on  the  subject,  and  he 
suffered  him  to  discuss  the  duel  and  all  its  consequences, 
without  the  slightest  evidence  of  the  suffering  it  cost  him. 

"Josephine  will  not  be  sorry  to  leave  it,"  said  Gabriac, 
after  a  short  silence.  "  She  told  me  that  they  never  under- 
stood her,  nor  she  them ;  and,  after  all,  you  know,"  said  he, 
smiling,  "  there  is  but  one  France  !  " 

"  And  but  one  Ireland  !  "  said  MacNaghten,  heartily. 

"  Heureusement !  "  muttered  the  Frenchman,  but  employ- 
ing a  word  which,  happily,  the  other  did  not  understand. 

"Her  state  is  one  of  great  danger  still,"  said  Dan,  allud- 
ing to  my  mother. 

"  They  say  so;  but  that  is  always  the  way  with  doctors. 
One  may  die  of  violent  anger,  rage,  ungratified  vengeance, 
jealousy,  but  not  of  mere  grief.  Sorrow  is  rather  a  sooth- 
ing passion,  —  don't  you  think  so?  " 

Had  MacNaghten  been  in  the  mood,  he  might  have  laughed 
at  the  remark,  but  now  it  only  irritated  and  incensed  him ; 
and  to  such  an  extent  did  the  heartless  manner  of  the 
Frenchman  grate  upon  his  feelings  that  he  was  in  momen- 
tary danger  of  including  my  poor  mother  in  the  depreciatory 
estimate  he  conceived  of  France  and  all  that  belonged  to 
it.  Nor  was  his  temper  improved  by  the  inquiries  of  Gabriac 
concerning  the  property  and  estates  of  my  father ;  in  fact, 
unable  any  longer  to  continue  a  conversation,  every  portion 
of  which  was  an  outrage,  he  arose  abruptly,  and,  wishing 
him  a  good  night,  left  the  room. 

"  Poor  "Walter,"  said  he,  as  he  slowly  sauntered  along  to- 
wards his  chamber,  "is  it  to  such  as  these  your  memory  is 
to  be  intrusted,  and  your  name  and  fortune  bequeathed?" 
And  with  this  gloomy  reflection  he  threw  himself  upon  his 
bed,  to  pass  a  sad  and  a  sleepless  night. 

It  was  in  a  curious  reverie  —  a  kind  of  inquiring  within 
himself,  "  How  came  it  that  qualities  so  calculated  to  make 
social  intercourse  delightful  in  days  of  happiness,  should 
prove  positively  offensive  in  moments  of  trial  and  affliction?  " 
for  such  he  felt  to  be  the  case  as  regarded  Gabriac  —  that 
MacNaghten  lay,  when  a  servant  came  to  inform  him  that 
.Mr.  Crowther  had  just  arrived  at  the  Castle,  and  earnestly 
requested  to  see  him. 


186  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

"  At  once,"  replied  he,  "  show  him  up  to  me  here ;  "  and 
in  a  few  moments  that  most  bland  and  imperturbable  of 
solicitors  entered,  and,  drawing  a  chair  to  the  bedside,  sat 
down. 

"  This  is  a  sad  occasion,  Mr.  MacNaghten.  I  little 
thought  when  I  last  saw  you  here  that  my  next  visit  would 
have  been  on  such  an  errand." 

MacNaghten  nodded  sorrowfully,  and  Crowther  went  on : 

"  Sad  in  every  sense,  sir,"  sighed  he,  heavily.  "  The  last 
of  his  name  —  one  of  our  oldest  gentry  —  the  head  of  a 
princely  fortune  —  with  abilities,  I  am  assured,  of  a  very 
high  order,  and,  certainly,  most  popular  manners." 

"  You  may  spare  me  the  eulogy,"  said  MacNaghten, 
bluntly.  "He  was  a  better  fellow  than  either  you  or  I 
should  be  able  to  describe,  if  we  spent  an  hour  over  it." 

Crowther  took  the  rebuke  in  good  part,  and  assented  to 
the  remark  with  the  best  possible  grace.  Still,  he  seemed  as 
if  he  would  like  to  dwell  a  little  longer  on  the  theme  before 
he  proceeded  to  other  matters.  Perhaps  he  thought  by  this 
to  secure  a  more  favorable  acceptance  for  what  he  had  to 
say ;  perhaps  he  was  not  fully  made  up  in  mind  how  to 
approach  the  subject  before  him.  MacNaghten,  who  always 
acted  through  life  as  he  would  ride  in  a  steeplechase,  straight 
onward,  regardless  of  all  in  his  way,  stopped  him  short,  by 
saying,  — 

"  Carew  has  left  a  will  in  your  hands,  I  believe?  " 

"  You  can  scarcely  call  it  a  will,  sir.  The  document  is 
very  irregular,  very  informal." 

' '  It  was  his  act,  however ;  he  wrote  or  dictated  it  him- 
self?" 

"  Not  even  that,  sir.  He  suggested  parts  of  it,  made 
trifling  corrections  with  his  own  pen,  approved  some  por- 
tions, and  left  others  for  after-consideration." 

"  It  is,  at  all  events,  the  only  document  of  the  kind  in 
existence  ?  " 

"  That  would  be  too  much  to  affirm,  sir." 

"I  mean  that  you,  at  least,  know  of  no  other;  in  fact,  I 
want  to  hear  whether  you  conceive  it  to  be  sufficient  for  its 
object,  as  explaining  Carew's  wishes  and  intentions." 

A  dubious  half-smile,  and  a  still  more  dubious  shake  of 


A  FRIEND'S  TRIALS.  187 

the  head,  seemed  to  infer  that  this  view  of  the  subject  was 
far  too  sweeping  and  comprehensive. 

"  Come,  come,"  said  Dan,  good-humoredly,  "  I'm  not  the 
Chancellor,  nor  even  Master  of  the  Rolls.  Even  a  little  in- 
discretion will  never  injure  your  reputation  in  talking  with 
me.  Just  tell  me  frankly  what  you  know  and  think  about 
my  poor  friend's  affairs.  His  widow,  if  she  ever  recover, 
which  is  very  doubtful,  is  but  little  suited  to  matters  of  busi- 
ness ;  and  as  it  is  not  a  case  where  any  adverse  litigation  is 
to  be  apprehended  —  What  do  you  mean  by  that  shake  of 
the  head?  You  surely  would  not  imply  that  the  estate,  or 
any  part  of  it,  could  be  contested  at  law?" 

"Who  could  say  as  much  for  any  property,  sir?"  said 
Crowther,  sententiously. 

"  I  know  that;  I  am  well  aware  that  there  are  fellows  in 
your  tribe  who  are  always  on  the  lookout  for  a  shipwrecked 
fortune,  that  they  may  earn  the  salvage  for  saving  it;  but 
here,  if  I  mistake  not  very  much,  is  an  estate  that  stands  in 
need  of  no  such  aids.     Carew  may  have  debts." 

"  Very  large  debts,  — debts  of  great  amount  indeed !  " 

"  Well,  be  it  so ;  there  ends  the  complication." 

"You  have  a  very  concise  and,  I  must  say,  a  most 
straightforward  mode  of  regarding  a  subject,  sir,"  said 
Crowther,  blandly.  "  There  is  an  admirable  clearness  in 
your  views,  and  a  most  business-like  promptitude  in  your 
deductions ;  but  we,  poor  moles  of  the  law,  are  condemned 
to  work  in  a  very  different  fashion ;  and,  to  be  brief,  here 
is  a  case  that  requires  the  very  nicest  management.  To 
enable  Madame  Carew  to  take  out  letters  of  administration 
to  her  late  husband's  property,  we  must  prove  her  marriage. 
Now,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  sir,  this  is  a  matter  of  considerable 
difficulty." 

"Why,  you  would  not  dare  to  assert  —  to  insinuate 
even  —  " 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind,  sir.  Pray  be  calm,  Mr.  Mac- 
Naghten.  I  am  as  incapable  of  such  a  thought  as  yourself. 
Of  the  fact,  I  entertain  no  more  doubt  than  you  do.  The 
proof  of  it,  —  the  legal  proof,  —  however,  I  am  most  anx- 
ious to  obtain." 

"  But.  with  search  amongst  his  papers —  " 


188  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

"  Very  true,  sir;  it  may  be  discovered.  I  have  no  doubt 
it  will  be  discovered.  I  only  mean  to  say  that  such  a  docu- 
ment is  not  to  be  met  with  amongst  those  in  my  hands, 
and  I  have  very  carefully  gone  over  a  large  packet,  labelled 
'  Papers  and  letters  relating  to  France  during  my  last  resi- 
dence there  in  '80-'81,'  which,  you  may  remember,  was  the 
period  of  his  marriage." 

"  But  he  alludes  to  that  event?" 

"Not  once,  sir;  there  is  not  a  single  passage  that  even 
bears  upon  it.  There  are  adventures  of  various  kinds,  cu- 
rious incidents,  many  of  them  in  love,  play,  and  gallantry; 
but  of  marriage,  or  even  of  any  speculation  on  the  subject, 
not  the  remotest  mention." 

' '  This  is  most  singular  !  " 

"Is  it  not  so,  sir?  But  I  have  thought,  perhaps,  that 
you,  who  were  alwa}Ts  his  most  attached  friend, — you,  at 
least,  possessed  some  letters  which  should  throw  light  upon 
this  matter,  even  to  indicate  the  exact  date  of  it,  where  it 
occurred,  who  the  witnesses." 

"  Not  a  line,  not  a  syllable,"  said  MacNaghten,  with  a 
sigh. 

"This  is  more  unfortunate  than  I  expected,"  said  Crow- 
ther.  "  I  always  said  to  myself,  '  Well,  in  his  private  cor- 
respondence, in  the  close  relations  of  friendship,  we  shall 
come  upon  some  clew  to  the  mystery.'  I  always  understood 
that  with  you  he  was  frankness  itself,  sir?" 

"  So  he  was,"  rejoined  MacNaghten. 

' '  This  reserve  is  therefore  the  more  remarkable  "still.  Cau 
you  account  for  it  in  any  way,  sir  ?  " 

"  Why  should  I  account  for  it?"  cried  Dan,  passionately. 
"My  friend  had  his  own  reasons  for  whatever  he  did, — 
good  and  sufficient  ones,  I  '11  be  sworn." 

"I  feel  assured  of  that,  sir;  don't  mistake  me  for  a 
moment,  or  suppose  I  am  impugning  them.  I  merely  de- 
sired to  learn  if  you  could,  from  your  intimate  knowledge  of 
your  friend's  character,  trace  this  reserve  on  his  part  to 
any  distinct  cause." 

"  My  knowledge  of  him  goes  this  far,"  said  MacNaghten, 
haughtily,  "  that  he  had  an  honorable  motive  for  every  act 
of  his  life." 


A   FRIEND'S  TRIALS.  189 

It  required  some  address  on  Crowther's  part  to  bring  back 
MacNaghten  to  that  calm  aud  deliberate  tone  of  mind  which 
the  subject  demanded.  After  a  while,  however,  he  per- 
fectly succeeded;  and  Dan  arose,  and  accompanied  him  to 
the  library,  where  they  both  proceeded  to  search  among  my 
father's  papers,  with  which  several  boxes  were  filled. 


CHAPTER  XVIH. 

DISAPPOINTMENTS. 

The  search  for  any  document  that  could  authenticate  my 
father's  marriage  proved  totally  unsuccessful,  and  although 
poor  MacNaghteu's  zeal  was  untiring  aud  unwearied,  all  his 
efforts  were  fruitless. 

Guided  by  the  clew  afforded  in  some  of  my  father's  letters, 
Dan  proceeded  to  Wales,  ascertained  the  cottage  where  they 
had  passed  their  first  month  of  married  life,  and  found  out 
many  who  had  known  them  by  sight ;  but  could  chance  upon 
nothing  which  should  lead  him  to  the  important  fact  where, 
and  by  whom,  the  marriage  ceremony  was  solemnized. 

The  state  of  my  mother's  health  was  so  precarious  for  a 
long  time  as  to  render  all  inquiry  from  her  impracticable ; 
while  there  was  also  a  very  natural  fear  of  the  consequences 
that  might  ensue,  were  she  to  suspect  the  object  of  any 
investigation,  and  learn  the  perilous  position  in  which  she 
stood.  Her  condition  was,  indeed,  a  pitiable  one,  —  a  young 
and  widowed  mother ;  a  stranger  in  a  foreign  land,  of  whose 
language  she  knew  scarcely  anything ;  without  one  friend  of 
her  own  sex,  separated  by  what,  in  those  days,  seemed  an 
immense  distance  from  all  belonging  to  her.  It  was  a  weary 
load  of  misfortune  to  be  borne  by  one  who  till  that  moment 
had  never  known  a  sorrow. 

Nor  was  MacNaghteu's  lot  more  enviable  as,  day  by  day, 
he  received  packets  of  letters  detailing  the  slow  but  steady 
march  of  those  legal  proceedings  which  were  to  end  in  the 
ruin  of  those  whom  he  felt  to  have  been  bequeathed  to  his 
friendship.  Already  two  claimants  for  the  estate  had  ap- 
peared in  the  field,  —  one,  a  distant  relation  of  my  father, 
a  very  rich  southern  baronet,  a  certain  Carew  O'Moore ;  the 
other,  an  unknown,  obscure  person,  whose  pretensions,  it 
was  said,  were  favored  by  Fagan,  and  at  whose  cost  the  suit 


DISAPPOINTMENTS.  191 

was  said  to  be  maintained.  With  the  former,  MacNaghten 
at  once  proceeded  to  open  relations  personally,  by  a  letter 
describing  in  simple  but  touching  terms  the  sad  state  in 
which  my  poor  mother  yet  lay,  and  appealing  to  his  feelings 
as  a  gentleman  and  a  man  of  humanity  to  stay  the  course 
of  proceedings  for  a  while,  at  least,  and  give  time  to  enable 
her  to  meet  them  by  such  information  as  she  might  possess. 

A  very  polite  reply  was  at  once  returned  to  this,  assur- 
ing MacNaghten  that  whatever  delays  could  be  accorded  to 
the  law  proceedings  —  short  of  defeating  the  object  altogether 
—  should  certainly  be  accorded ;  that  nothing  was  further 
from  Sir  Carew's  desire  than  to  increase,  in  the  slightest, 
the  sorrows  of  one  so  heavily  visited  ;  and  expressing,  in 
conclusion,  a  regret  that  his  precarious  health  should  pre- 
clude him  paying  his  personal  visit  of  condolence  at  the 
Castle,  where,  he  trusted,  the  lady  would  continue  to  reside 
so  long  as  her  health  or  convenience  made  it  desirable.  If 
the  expressions  of  the  letter  were  not  as  hearty  and  gener- 
ous as  honest  Dan  might  have  wished  them,  they  were  more 
gratifying  than  the  note  he  received  from  Fagan,  written 
with  all  the  caution  and  reserve  of  the  Grinder's  manner; 
for,  while  not  going  so  far  as  to  admit  that  he  was  person- 
ally interested  and  concerned  for  the  new  claimant,  he 
guardedly  avoided  giving  any  denial  to  the  fact. 

For  three  weeks  did  MacNaghten  continue  to  search 
through  immense  masses  of  papers  and  documents;  he 
ransacked  musty  drawers  of  mustier  cabinets ;  he  waded 
through  piles  of  correspondence,  in  the  hope  of  some  faint 
flickering  of  light,  some  chance  phrase  that  might  lead  him 
to  the  right  track ;  but  without  success !  He  employed 
trusty  and  sharp-witted  agents  to  trace  back,  through 
England,  the  journey  my  father  and  mother  had  come  by, 
but  so  secretly  had  every  step  of  that  wedding-tour  been 
conducted,  that  no  clew  remained. 

Amidst  the  disappointments  of  this  ineffectual  pursuit, 
there  came,  besides,  the  disheartening  reflection  that  from 
those  who  were  most  intimately  acquainted  with  my  father's 
affairs  he  met  neither  counsel  nor  co-operation.  On  the 
contrary,  Crowther's  manner  was  close  and  secret  on  every 
matter  of  detail,  and  as  to  the  chances  of  a  suit,  avowed 


192  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

how  little  ground  they  had  for  resistance.  Fagan  even 
went  further,  and  spoke  with  an  assumed  regret  that  my 
father  should  have  made  no  provision  for  those  belonging 
to  him. 

All  these  were,  however,  as  nothing  to  the  misei'y  of  that 
day  in  which  McNaghten  was  obliged  to  break  the  disclosure 
to  my  mother,  and  explain  to  her  the  position  of  ruin  and 
humiliation  in  which  she  was  placed !  She  was  still  weak 
and  debilitated  from  her  illness,  her  bodily  strength  im- 
paired, and  her  mind  broken  by  suffering,  when  this  new 
shock  came  upon  her;  nor  could  she  at  first  be  made  to 
understand  the  full  measure  of  her  misfortune,  nor  to  what 
it  exactly  tended.  That  the  home  of  her  husband  was  no 
longer  to  be  hers  was  a  severe  blow ;  it  was  endeared  to 
her  by  so  many  of  the  tenderest  recollections.  It  was  all 
that  really  remained  associated  with  him  she  had  lost. 
"  But  perhaps,"  thought  she,  "  this  is  the  law  of  the  coun- 
try :  such  are  the  inevitable  necessities  of  the  land."  Her 
boy  would,  if  he  lived,  one  day  possess  it  for  his  own,  and 
upon  this  thought  she  fell  back  for  consolation. 

MacNaghten  did  not  venture  in  his  first  interview  to  un- 
deceive her ;  a  second  and  even  a  third  passed  over  without 
his  being  equal  to  the  task :  but  the  inexorable  course  of 
law  gave,  at  last,  no  time  for  further  delay.  The  tenants 
of  the  estate  had  received  formal  notice  to  pay  the  amount 
of  their  several  holdings  into  court,  pending  the  litigation 
of  the  property.  A  peremptory  order  to  surrender  the  house 
and  demesne  was  also  issued.  The  servants  talked  openly 
of  the  approaching  break-up  of  the  household,  and  already 
vague  and  shadowy  rumors  ran  that  my  father  had  died 
intestate,  and  that  my  mother  was  left  without  a  shilling. 

From  early  morning  till  late  at  night,  MacNaghten  had 
toiled  without  ceasing.  He  had  visited  lawyers,  attended 
consultations,  instituted  fresh  searches  through  Crowther's 
papers,  but  all  with  the  same  result.  The  most  hopeful 
counsels  only  promised  a  barren  resistance,  the  less  san- 
guine advisers  recommended  any  compromise  that  might 
secure  to  my  mother  some  moderate  competence  to  live  on. 
So  much  had  the  course  of  events  preyed  upon  his  mind, 
and   so   dispirited   had    he   grown   that,   as   he  afterwards 


DISAPPOINTMENTS.  193 

owned,  he  found  himself  listening  to  arguments,  and  will- 
ing to  entertain  projects,  which,  had  they  been  presented 
but  a  few  weeks  before,  he  had  rejected  with  scorn  and 
indignation.  It  was  then,  too,  and  for  the  first  time,  that 
the  possibility  struck  him  that  my  father's  marriage  might 
have  been  solemnized  without  that  formality  which  should 
make  it  good  in  law.  He  remembered  the  reserve  with 
which,  in  all  their  frank  friendship,  the  subject  was  ever 
treated.  He  bethought  him  of  the  reluctance  with  which 
my  father  suffered  himself  to  be  drawn  into  any  allusion  to 
that  event ;  and  that,  in  fact,  it  was  the  only  theme  on  which 
they  never  conversed  in  perfect  frankness  and  sincerity. 

"  After  all,"  thought  he,  "  the  matter  may  be  difficult  of 
proof.  There  may  have  been  reasons,  real  or  imaginary,  for 
secrecy ;  there  may  have  been  certain  peculiar  circumstances 
requiring  unusual  caution  or  mystery ;  but  Watty  was  quite 
incapable  of  presenting  to  his  friends  and  to  the  world  as  his 
wife  one  who  had  not  every  title  to  the  name,  while  she  who 
held  that  place  gave  the  best  guarantee,  by  her  manner  and 
conduct,  that  it  was  hers  by  right."  To  this  consolation  he 
was  obliged  to  fall  back  at  each  new  moment  of  discomfiture  ; 
but  although  it  served  to  supply  him  with  fresh  energy  and 
courage,  it  also  oppressed  him  with  the  sad  reflection  that 
conviction  and  belief  in  his  friend's  honor  would  have  no 
weight  in  the  legal  discussion  of  the  case,  and  that  one 
scrawled  fragment  of  paper  would  be  better  in  evidence  than 
all  the  trustfulness  that  was  ever  inspired  by  friendship. 

If  gifted  with  a  far  more  than  common  amount  of  resolu- 
tion and  energy,  MacNaghten  was  by  nature  impulsive  to 
rashness,  and  consequently  not  well  suited  to  deal  with  those 
who,  more  cautious  by  temperament,  and  less  given  to 
exhibit  their  feelings,  find  their  profit  in  trading  upon  the 
warmer  and  less  suspectful  natures  of  others.  In  proportion 
as  his  daily  disappointment  preyed  upon  him,  he  displayed 
the  effect  in  his  manner  and  appearance,  and  at  length, 
between  mental  agitation  and  bodily  fatigue,  became  the 
mere  wreck  of  what  he  had  been.  It  was  thus  that,  after  a 
long  day  passed  in  toil  and  excitement,  he  strolled  into  one 
of  the  squares  after  nightfall,  to  seek  in  the  solitude  of  the 
spot  some  calm  and  tranquillity  for  his  harassed  spirit. 

13 


194  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

It  was  the  autumn,  —  that  season  when  Dublin  is  almost 
deserted  by  its  residents,  and  scarcely  any  of  those  who 
constitute  what  is  called  society  were  in  the  capital.  Mac- 
Naghten,  therefore,  was  not  likely  to  find  any  to  interfere 
with  the  loneliness  he  sought  for,  and  loitered  uumolested 
for  hours  through  the  lanes  and  alleys  of  the  silent  square. 
There  was  a  certain  freshness  in  the  night  air  that  served  to 
rally  his  jaded  frame ;  and  he  felt,  in  the  clear  and  half- 
frosty  atmosphere,  a  sense  of  invigoration  that  made  him 
unwilling  to  leave  the  spot.  While  thus  gathering  strength 
for  the  coming  day,  he  thought  he  heard  footsteps  in  the 
walk  behind  him ;  he  listened,  and  now  distinctly  heard  the 
sound  of  a  voice  talking  in  loud  tones,  and  the  shuffling 
sounds  of  feet  on  the  gravel.  Stepping  aside  into  the  copse, 
he  waited  to  see  who  and  for  what  purpose  might  they  be 
who  came  there  at  this  unfrequented  hour. 

To  his  astonishment,  a  solitary  figure  moved  past,  walking 
with  short,  hasty  steps,  while  he  talked  and  gesticulated  to 
himself  with  every  appearance  of  intense  excitement.  Mac- 
Naghten  had  but  to  hear  a  word  or  two,  at  once  to  recognize 
the  speaker  as  Curtis  —  that  strange,  half- misanthropic  crea- 
ture, who,  partly  from  fault,  and  in  part  from  misfortune, 
now  lived  in  a  state  of  friendless  isolation. 

It  was  rumored  that,  although  his  bearing  and  manner 
before  the  Court  displayed  consummate  coolness  and  self- 
possession,  that  the  effect  of  the  recent  trial  had  been  to 
shake  his  intellect  seriously,  and,  while  impressing  upon 
him  more  strongly  the  notion  of  his  being  selected  and 
marked  out  for  persecution  by  the  Government,  to  impart  to 
him  a  kind  of  martyr's  determination  to  perish  in  the  cause. 
At  no  time  were  he  and  Dan  congenial  spirits.  Their  natures 
and  their  temperaments  were  widely  different ;  and,  from  the 
great  disparity  in  their  ages,  as  well  as  in  all  their  associa- 
tions, there  was  scarcely  one  point  of  friendly  contact  in 
common  to  them. 

There  is  a  companionable  element  in  misfortune,  however, 
stronger  than  what  we  discover  in  prosperity ;  and  partly 
from  this  cause,  and  partly  from  a  sense  of  compassion, 
MacNaghten  followed  him  quickly,  and  hailed  him  by  his 


DISAPPOINTMENTS.  195 

"Joe  Curtis!  "  repeated  the  old  man,  stopping  suddenly. 
"I  submit,  my  Lord,  that  this  is  an  insufficient  designation. 
I  am  Joseph  Curtis,  Esquire,  of  Meagh-valley  House." 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  said  MacNaghten,  cordially  taking 
his  hand  and  shaking  it  warmly,  "  though  I  think  you  '11 
suffer  an  old  friend  to  be  less  ceremonious  with  you." 

"Ah!  you  here,  Dan  MacNaghten, — why,  what  in  the 
name  of  all  mischief  has  led  you  to  this  place?  I  thought  I 
was  the  only  maniac  in  this  ward ;  "  and  he  gave  a  harsh, 
grating  laugh  of  irony  at  his  own  jesting  allusion. 

"  I  came  here  partly  by  accident,  and  have  loitered  from 
choice." 

"  We  must  take  care  that  no  gentlemen  have  fixed  this 
evening  for  a  meeting  here,"  said  Curtis,  in  a  low.  guarded 
whisper.  "  You  and  I,  MacNaghten,  would  fare  badly, 
depend  upon  it.  What!  with  our  known  reputations,  and 
the  nails  in  our  boots,  —  eh  !  the  nails  in  our  boots,  —  they  '11 
make  what 's  called  a  strong  case  against  us !  You  'd  get 
off,  —  they  've  nothing  against  you ;  but  they  '11  not  let  me 
slip  through,  like  last  time.  Did  you  ever  know  such  a  close 
thing?  The  foreman,  old  Andrews,  told  me  since.  w  We  had 
quite  made  up  our  minds,  sir.  We  'd  have  said  guilty  with- 
out leaving  the  box.'  Just  think  of  their  dilemma  if  they 
had  hanged  me !  My  papers,  for  I  took  care  to  leave  all  in 
writing,  would  have  shown  up  the  whole  conspirac}'.  I  've 
set  forth  the  game  they  have  been  playing  since  the 
year  '42.  I  detailed  all  their  machinations,  and  showed  the 
secret  orders  they  had  given  to  each  successive  Viceroy. 
There  were  three  men — only  three  men  —  in  all  Ireland  that 
they  dreaded !  And  that  blundering  fool  Carew  must  rush 
in  with  his  rashness  and  absurdity!  Who  ever  heard  or  saw 
the  like?" 

"  Poor  fellow!  "  muttered  MacNaghten. 

"  'Poor  fellow,'  as  much  as  you  wish,  sir;  but  remember 
that  some  degree  of  consideration  is  due  to  me  also !  I  was 
a  prisoner  seven  weeks  in  Newgate ;  I  stood  in  the  dock, 
arraigned  for  a  murder ;  I  was  on  the  eve  of  a  false  convic- 
tion and  a  false  sentence;  and  there  is  no  man  living  can 
say  what  results  might  not  have  followed  on  my  being  falsely 
executed!     Your    friend's    stupid    interference    has    spoiled 


196  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

everything,  and  you  need  n't  ask  me,  at  least,  to  feel  grate- 
ful to  him." 

"There  are  men  who,  in  your  situation  that  day,  would 
not  hesitate  to  acknowledge  their  gratitude,  notwithstand- 
ing," said  MacNaghten. 

"  There  are  poor-spirited,  contemptible  curs  in  every  coun- 
try, sir,  if  you  mean  that!  "  said  Curtis.  "As  for  Carew, 
he  was  a  gentleman  by  birth.  He  had  the  fortune  and  the 
education  of  one.  He  might,  if  he  had  wished  it,  have  been 
one  of  the  first,  if  not  the  very  first,  men  in  this  country. 
He  thought  it  a  finer  thing  to  be  a  horse-racer  and  a  gambler. 
He  saw  greater  distinction  in  being  the  dangler  at  the  court 
of  a  foreign  debauchee  to  being  the  leading  character  in  his 
own  land.  Don't  interrupt  me,  sir,"  cried  he,  haughtily, 
waving  his  hand,  while  he  went  on,  with  increased  vehemence. 
"I  tell  you  again  that  Walter  Carew  might  now  have  been 
a  great  living  patriot  —  instead  of  —  " 

"  If  you  utter  one  syllable  of  insult  to  his  memory,"  broke 
in  MacNaghten,  boldly,  "  neither  your  age  nor  your  folly 
shall  save  you ;  for,  by  Heaven  —  " 

He  stopped,  for  the  aspect  of  the  broken-down,  white- 
haired  figure  in  front  of  him  suddenly  overcame  him  with 
shame  for  his  own  violence. 

"Well,  and  what  then?"  said  Curtis,  calmly.  "  Shall  I 
finish  your  threat  for  you?  for,  in  truth,  you  seem  quite 
unable  to  do  so  yourself.  No,  I  '11  not  —  Dan  MacNaghten 
—  never  fear  me.  I  'm  just  as  incapable  of  defaming  him 
who  has  left  us  as  you  are  of  offering  insult  to  an  old, 
decrepit,  half-crazed  man,  whose  only  use  in  life  is  to  cast 
obloquy  upon  those  that  have  made  him  the  thing  he  is." 

"Forgive  me,  Curtis;  I  am  heartily  sorry  for  my  rude 
speech,"  cried  MacNaghten. 

"Forgive  you,  sir!"  said  he,  already  following  out 
another  and  a  very  different  train  of  thought.  "  I  have 
nothing  to  forgive.  You  were  only  doing  what  all  the  world 
does ;  what  your  Government  and  its  authorities  give  the 
example  of,  —  insulting  one  whom  it  is  safe  to  outrage ! 
You  treat  me  as  you  treat  Ireland,  that's  all!  Give  me 
your  hand,  MacNaghten  ;  I  think,  indeed  I  always  said,  you 
were  the  best  of  those  fellows  about  Carew.     If  he  had  n't 


DISAPPOINTMENTS.  197 

been  away  from  you,  probably  he  'd  not  have  fallen  into  that 
stupid  mistake,  —  that  French  connection." 

"  His  marriage,  do  you  mean?"  cried  Dan,  eagerly. 

"  Marriage,  if  you  like  to  call  it  so !  "  rejoined  the  other. 

"  Have  you  a  single  doubt  that  it  was  such?  " 

"  Have  I  a  single  reason  to  believe  it?"  said  Curtis,  dog- 
gedly. "  If  a  man  of  fifteen  thousand  a-year  takes  a  wife, 
he  selects  a  woman  whose  rank  and  station  are  at  least  equal 
to  his  own,  and  he  takes  care  besides  that  the  world  knows 
it.  If  she  brings  him  no  fortune,  he  makes  the  more  fuss 
about  her  family,  and  parades  her  high  relations.  He  does  n't 
wed  in  secret,  and  keep  the  day,  the  place,  the  witnesses,  a 
mystery ;  he  does  n't  avoid  even  a  chance  mention  of  the 
event  to  his  dearest  friends ;  he  does  n't  settle  down  to  live 
in  an  obscure  retreat,  when  he  owns  a  princely  residence  in 
the  midst  of  his  friends.  When  he  does  come  back  amongst 
them,  he  does  not  shrink  from  presenting  her  to  the  world ; 
to  lie  driven  at  last  by  necessity  to  the  bold  course,  —  to  fill 
his  house  with  company,  and  see  them  drop  off,  —  fritter 
away  one  by  one,  distrustful,  dissatisfied,  and  suspecting. 
Don't  tell  me,  sir,  that  if  he  had  a  good  cause  and  a  safe 
cause  behind  him,  that  Walter  Carew  would  n't  have  asked 
explanations,  ay,  and  enforced  them,  too,  from  some  of 
those  guests  who  rewarded  his  hospitality  so  scurvily.  You 
knew  him  well ;  and  I  ask  you,  was  he  the  man  to  suffer  the 
insolent  attacks  of  the  public  journals,  if  it  were  not  that  he 
dreaded  even  worse  exposures  by  provocation?  You  are  a 
shrewd  and  a  clever  fellow,  MacNaghten ;  and  if  you  don't 
see  this  matter  as  all  the  world  sees  it  —  " 

"And  is  this  the  common  belief?  Do  you  tell  me  that 
such  is  the  impression  abroad  in  society?  " 

"Consult  Matt  Fosbroke.  Ask  Harvey  Hempton  what 
his  wife  says.  Go  to  George  Tisdall  and  get  his  account  of 
their  departure  from  Castle  Carew,  and  the  answer  they  sent 
when  invited  there  a  second  time." 

"Why,  all  this  is  new  to  me!"  cried  MacNaghten,  in 
amazement. 

"To  be  sure,  it's  only  circumstantial  evidence,"  broke  in 
Curtis,  with  a  hitter  laugh;  "  but  that  is  precisely  what  the 
courts  of  law  tell  you  is  the  most  unimpeachahle  of  all  testi- 


198  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

mony.  It  may  fail  to  convince  you,  but  it  would  be  quite 
sufficient  to  hang  me  !  " 

The  bare  recurrence,  for  a  second,  to  this  theme  at  once 
brought  back  the  old  man  to  his  own  case,  into  which  he 
launched  with  all  the  fervor  of  a  full  mind  ;  now  sneering  at 
the  capacity  of  those  before  whom  he  was  arraigned,  now 
detailing  with  delight  the  insolent  remarks  he  had  taken 
occasion  to  make  on  the  administration  of  justice  generally. 
It  was  in  vain  that  MacNaghten  tried  to  lead  him  away  from 
the  subject.  It  constituted  his  world  to  him,  and  he  would 
not  quit  it.  A  chance  mention  of  Fagan's  name  in  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  trial  gave  occasion  at  last  for  interruption, 
and  MacNaghten  said,  — 

"By  the  way,  Fagan  is  a  difficult  fellow  to  deal  with. 
You  know  him  well,  I  believe  ?  " 

"  Know  him.  Ay,  that  I  do,  sir.  I  have  known  that  den 
of  his  since  it  was  an  apple-stall.  My  first  post-obit  was 
cashed  by  his  worthy  father.  My  last  bill "  —  here  he 
laughed  heartily  —  "  my  last  bill  was  protested  by  the  son ! 
And  yet  the  fellow  is  afraid  of  me.  Ay,  there  is  no  man 
that  walks  this  city  he  dreads  so  much  as  me !  " 

Curtis  was  so  much  in  the  habit  of  exaggerating  his  own 
importance,  and  particularly  as  it  affected  others,  that  Mac- 
Naghten paid  but  little  attention  to  this  remark,  when  the 
other  quickly  rejoined,  — 

"  If  you  want  to  manage  Fagan,  take  me  with  you.  He  '11 
not  give  you  money  on  my  bond,  nor  will  he  discount  a  bill 
for  my  name's  sake ;  but  he  '11  do  what  costs  him  to  the  full 
as  much,  —  he  '11  tell  you  the  truth,  sir.  Mark  that,  —  he  '11 
tell  you  the  truth." 

"  Will  you  accompany  me  to  his  house  to-morrow?  "  asked 
Dan,  eagerly. 

"  Ay,  whenever  you  will." 

"  I  '11  call  upon  you  at  ten  o'clock,  then,  if  not  too  early, 
and  talk  over  the  business  for  which  I  want  your  assistance. 
Where  are  you  stopping?  " 

"  My  town  residence  is  let  to  Lord  Belview,  and  to  avoid 
the  noise  and  turmoil  of  a  hotel,  I  live  in  lodgings,"  said 
Curtis,  slowly,  and  with  a  certain  pomposity  of  air  and 
manner;    suddenly  changing  which  to  his  ordinary  jocular 


DISAPPOINTMENTS.  199 

tone,  he  said:  "  You  have,  maybe,  heard  of  a  place  called 
Furn's  Alley.  It  lies  in  the  Liberty,  and  opens  upon  that 
classic  precinct  called  '  The  Poddle.'  There,  sir,  at  a  door 
over  which  a  straw  chair  is  suspended,  —  it 's  the  manufac- 
ture of  the  house,  — there,  sir,  lives  Joe  Curtis." 

"  I  '11  be  with  you  at  ten,"  said  Dan  ;  and,  with  some  pass- 
ing allusion  to  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  he  led  the  way  back 
into  the  town,  where  they  parted. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

"  fum's  alley,  near  the  poddle." 

MacNaghten's  object  in  seeking  an  interview  with  Fagan 
was  to  ascertain,  in  the  first  place,  who  that  claimant  to  the 
estate  was  whose  views  he  advocated ;  and,  secondly,  what 
prospect  there  might  be  of  effecting  some  species  of  compro- 
mise which  should  secure  to  my  mother  a  reasonable  com- 
petence. Although,  in  his  isolation,  he  had  grasped  eagerly 
even  at  such  co-operation  as  that  of  Curtis,  the  more  he 
thought  over  the  matter,  the  less  reason  did  he  see  to  rejoice 
in  the  alliance.  Even  before  misfortune  had  affected  his 
intellect,  his  temper  was  violent,  and  his  nature  impracti- 
cable. Always  yielding  to  impulse  far  more  than  to  mature 
judgment,  he  rushed  madly  on,  scrambling  from  difficulty 
to  difficulty,  and  barely  extricated  from  one  mishap  till 
involved  in  another. 

Such  aid  as  he  could  proffer,  therefore,  promised  little, 
and  Dan  felt  more  than  half  disposed  to  relinquish  it.  This, 
however,  should  be  done  with  all  respect  to  the  feelings  of 
Curtis,  and,  reflecting  in  what  way  the  object  could  best  be 
compassed,  MacNaghten  slowly  sauntered  onwards  to  the 
appointed  place.  It  was  not  without  some  difficulty  that  he 
at  last  discovered  the  miserable  lane,  at  the  entrance  to 
which  a  jaunting-car  was  now  waiting,  —  a  mark  of  aristo- 
cratic intercourse  which  seemed,  by  the  degree  of  notice  it 
attracted,  to  show  that  such  equipages  rarely  visited  this 
secluded  region.  MacNaghten's  appearance,  however,  soon 
divided  public  curiosity  with  the  vehicle,  and  he  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  ragged  gathering  of  every  age  and  sex,  who  very 
unceremoniously  canvassed  the  object  of  his  coming,  and 
with  a  most  laudable  candor  criticised  his  look  and  appear- 
ance.    Although  poor  and  wretched  in  the  extreme,  none  of 


"FUM'S   ALLEY,   NEAR  THE   PODDLE."  201 

them  asked  alms,  nor  seemed  in  the  slightest  degree  desirous 
of  attracting  attention  to  their  own  destitution. 

"  Is  it  a  lodgin'  yer  honer  wants?  "  whispered  an  old  fel- 
low on  crutches,  sidling  close  up  to  MacNaghten,  and  speak- 
ing in  a  confidential  tone.  "  I've  a  back  room  looks  out  on 
the  Poddle,  for  two  shillings  a  week,  furnished." 

"I've  the  elegant  place  Mary  Murdoch  lived  in  for  ten 
months,  yer  honer,  in  spite  of  all  the  polis',  and  might  be 
livin'  there  yet,  if  she  didn't  take  into  her  head  to  go  to 
Fir-hamble  Street  playhouse  one  night  and  get  arrested," 
cried  a  one-eyed  old  hag,  with  a  drummer's  coat  on. 

"  He  does  n't  want  a  room,  —  the  gentleman  is  n't  the  likes 
of  them  that  comes  here,"  growled  out  a  cripple,  who,  with 
the  sagacity  that  often  belongs  to  the  maimed,  seemed  better 
to  divine  Dan's  motives. 

"  You  're  right,  my  lad ;  I  was  trying  to  find  out  where  a 
friend  of  mine  lived,  — Mr.  Curtis." 

"  Faix,  ould  Joe  has  company  this  mornin',"  said  the 
first  speaker.  "  It  was  to  see  him  that  the  fat  man  came  on 
the  jaunting-car." 

"  Are  yiz  goin'  to  try  him  agen?  "  said  a  red-eyed,  fierce- 
looking  woman,  whose  face  was  a  mass  of  bruises. 

"Sure  the  gentleman  isn't  a  bailiff  nor  a  polisman," 
broke  in  the  cripple,  rebukingly. 

"There's  not  a  man  in  the  Poddle  won't  stand  up  for 
Joe  Curtis,  if  he  needs  it,"  cried  a  powerfully  built  man, 
whose  energy  of  manner  showed  that  he  was  the  leader  of 
a  party. 

"  Yer  honer 's  looking  for  Kitty  Nelligan  ;  but  she 's  gone," 
whispered  a  young  creature,  with  a  baby  at  her  breast;  and 
her  eyes  overran  with  tears  as  she  spoke.  "  She  died  o' 
Friday  last,"  added  she,  in  a  still  fainter  voice. 

"Didn't  ye  hear  him  say  it  was  Mister  Joe  he  wanted? 
and  there  's  the  house  he  lives  in,"  said  another. 

"  Yis,  but  he  can't  go  up  to  him  now,"  said  the  man  who 
affected  to  assume  rule  amongst  them;  "  the  one  that  came 
on  the  car  said  he  was  n't  to  be  disturbed  on  any  account." 

"  Begorra,"  chimed  in  the  cripple,  "if  it's  a  levee,  yer 
honer  must  wait  yer  turn  !  " 

"I'm  quite  willing,"  said  Dan,  good-humoredly ;  "a  man 


202  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

has  no  right  to  be  impatient  in  the  midst  of  such  pleasant 
company ;  "  and  as  he  spoke,  he  seated  himself  on  a  low 
stone  bench  beside  the  house  door,  with  all  the  ease  of  one 
bent  on  being  companionable. 

Had  MacNaghten  assumed  airs  of  haughty  superiority  or 
insolent  contempt  for  that  motley  assembly,  he  never  could 
have  attained  to  the  position  to  which  the  last  words,  care- 
lessly uttered  as  they  were,  at  once  raised  him.  They  not 
only  pronounced  him  a  gentleman,  but  a  man  of  the  world 
besides,  —  the  two  qualities  in  the  very  highest  repute  in 
that  class  by  which  he  was  surrounded.  Instead,  therefore, 
of  the  familiar  tone  they  had  previously  used  towards  him, 
they  now  stood  silently  awaiting  him  to  speak. 

"  Do  the  people  hereabouts  follow  any  particular  trade?  " 
asked  Dan. 

"  'T  is  straw  chairs  principally,  your  honer,"  replied  the 
cripple,  "is  the  manufacture  of  the  place;  but  most  of  us 
are  on  the  streets." 

"  On  the  streets,  —  how  do  you  mean?  " 

"There's  Billy  Glory,  there  yonder,  he  sings  ballads; 
that  man  with  the  bit  of  crape  round  his  hat  hawks  the 
papers ;  more  of  us  cry  things  lost  or  stolen ;  and  a  few 
more  lives  by  rows  and  rucktions  at  elections,  and  the  like." 

"Faix!  and,"  sighed  the  strong  man,  "the  trade  isn't 
worth  the  following  now.  I  remember  when  Barry  O'Hara 
would  n't  walk  the  streets  without  a  body-guard,  —  five  in 
front,  and  five  behind  him,  —  and  well  paid  they  were;  and 
I  remember  Hamilton  Brown  payin'  fifty  of  us  to  keep 
College  Green  against  the  Government,  on  a  great  Parlia- 
ment night.     Ay,  and  we  did  it  too  !  " 

"  They  wor  good  times  for  more  than  you,"  broke  in  the 
woman  in  the  uniform  coat;  "I  made  seven-and-sixpence 
on  Essex  Bridge  in  one  night  by  the  '  Shan  van  voght.'  " 

"  The  grandest  ballad  that  ever  was  written,"  chimed  in 
an  old  man  with  one  eye ;   "  does  yer  honer  know  it?  " 

"I'm  ashamed  to  say  not  perfectly,"  said  Dan,  with  an 
air  of  humility. 

"  Molly  Daly's  the  one  can  sing  it  well,  then,"  cried  he; 
a  sentiment  re-echoed  with  enthusiasm  by  all. 

"I'm  low  and  down-hearted  of  a  mornin',"  said  Molly, 


"ELM'S   ALLEY,   NEAR  THE   PODDLE."  203 

bashfully;  "but  maybe  after  a  naggiu  and  a  pint  I'll  be 
better." 

"  Let  rne  have  the  honor  to  treat  the  company,"  said  Dan, 
handing  a  crown-piece  to  one  near  him. 

"  If  your  honor  wants  to  hear  Molly  right,  make  her  sing- 
Tom  Molloy's  ballad  for  the  Volunteers,"  whispered  the 
cripple ;  and  he  struck  up  in  a  hoarse  voice,  — 

"  '  Was  she  uot  a  fool, 

When  she  took  off  our  wool, 
To  leave  us  so  much  of  the 

Leather  —  the  leather! 

" '  It  ne'er  entered  her  pate 
That  a  sheepskin  will '  bate,' 
Will  drive  a  whole  nation 

Together  —  together.' " 

"  I  'd  rather  she  'd  sing  Mosy  Cassan's  new  song  on  Barry 
Rutledge,"  growled  out  a  bystander. 

"  A  song  on  Rutledge?  "  cried  Dan. 

"Yes,  sir.  It  was  describin'  how  Watty  Carew  enticed 
him  downstairs,  to  kill  him.  Faix,  but  there  's  murder  now 
goin'  on  upstairs ;  do  ye  hear  ould  Joe,  how  he 's  cursin' 
and  swearin'  ?  " 

The  uproar  was  assuredly  enough  to  attract  attention ;  for 
Curtis  was  heard  screaming  something  at  the  top  of  his 
voice,  and  as  if  in  high  altercation  with  his  visitor.  Mac- 
Naghten  accordingly  sprang  from  his  seat,  and  hurried  up 
the  stairs  at  once,  followed  by  the  powerful-looking  fellow  I 
have  already  mentioned.  As  he  came  near  Curtis's  chamber, 
however,  the  sounds  died  away,  and  nothing  could  be  heard 
but  the  low  voices  of  persons  conversing  in  ordinary  tones 
together. 

"  Step  in  here,  sir,"  said  the  fellow  to  Dan,  unlocking  a 
door  at  the  back  of  the  house;  "step  in  here,  and  I'll  tell 
you  when  Mister  Joe  is  ready  to  see  you." 

MacNaghten  accepted  the  offer,  and  now  found  himself 
in  a  mean-looking  chamber,  scantily  furnished,  and  looking 
out  upon  some  of  those  miserable  lanes  and  alleys  with 
which  the  place  abounded.  The  man  retired,  locking  the 
door  after  him,  and  leaving  Dan  to  his  own  meditations  in 
solitude. 


204  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

He  was  not  destined  to  follow  these  thoughts  long  undis- 
turbed, for  again  he  could  hear  Curtis's  voice,  which,  at  first 
from  a  distant  room,  was  now  to  be  heard  quite  close,  as  he 
came  into  the  very  chamber  adjoining  that  where  Dan  was. 

"  Come  this  way,  come  this  way,  I  say,"  cried  the  old 
man,  in  a  voice  tremulous  with  passion.  "  If  you  want  to 
seize,  you  shall  see  the  chattels  at  once,  —  no  need  to  trouble 
yourself  about  an  inventory  !  There  is  my  bed ;  I  got  fresh 
straw  into  the  sacking  on  Saturday.  The  blanket  is  a  bor- 
rowed one ;  that  horseman's  cloak  is  my  own.  There  's  not 
much  in  that  portmanteau,"  cried  he,  kicking  it  with  his  foot 
against  the  wall.  "  Two  ragged  shirts  and  a  lambskin  waist- 
coat, and  the  title-deeds  of  estates  that  not  even  your  chi- 
canery could  get  back  for  me.  Take  them  all,  take  that  old 
blunderbuss,  and  tell  the  Grinder  that  if  I  'd  have  put  it  to 
my  head  twenty  years  ago,  it  would  have  been  mercy,  com- 
pared to  the  slow  torture  of  his  persecution !  " 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Curtis,  my  dear  sir,"  interposed  a  bland, 
soft  voice  that  Dan  at  once  recognized  as  belonging  to  Mr. 
Crowther,  the  attorney,  "  you  must  allow  me  once  more  to 
protest  against  this  misunderstanding.  There  is  nothing 
further  from  my  thoughts  at  this  moment  than  any  measure 
of  rigor  or  severity  towards  you." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  then,  by  that  long  catalogue  of  my 
debts?  Why  have  you  hunted  me  out  to  show  me  bills  I 
can  never  pay,  and  bonds  I  can  never  release?  " 

"  Pray  be  calm,  sir;  bear  with  me  patiently,  and  you  will 
see  that  my  business  here  this  morning  is  the  very  reverse 
of  what  you  suspect  it  to  be.  It  is  perfectly  true  that  Mr. 
Fagan  possesses  large,  very  large,  claims  upon  you." 

"How  incurred,  sir?  —  answer  me  that.  Who  can  stand 
forty,  fifty,  ay,  sixty  per  cent?  Has  he  not  succeeded  to 
every  acre  of  my  estate?  Have  I  anything,  except  that 
settle-bed,  that  is  n't  his?  " 

"  You  cannot  expect  me  to  go  at  length  into  these  matters, 
sir,"  said  Crowther,  mildly ;  "  they  are  now  bygones,  and  it 
is  of  the  future  I  wish  to  speak." 

"If  the  past  be  bad,  the  future  promises  to  be  worse," 
cried  Curtis,  bitterly.  "It  is  but  sorry  mercy  to  ask  me  to 
look  forward !  " 


"FUM'S   ALLEY,   NEAR   THE   PODDLE."  205 

"I  think  I  can  convince  you  to  the  contrary,  sir,  if  you 
vouchsafe  me  a  hearing.  I  hope  to  show  you  that  there  are 
in  all  probability  many  happy  years  before  you,  —  years  of 
ease  and  affluence.  Yes,  sir,  in  spite  of  that  gesture  of 
incredulity,  I  repeat  it,  —  of  ease  and  affluence." 

"  So,  then,  they  think  to  buy  me  at  last,"  broke  in  the 
old  man.  "  The  scoundrels  must  have  met  with  few  honest 
men,  or  they  had  never  dared  to  make  such  a  proposal. 
What  do  the  rascals  think  to  bribe  me  with,  eh?  Tell  me 
that." 

"  You  persist  in  misunderstanding  me,  sir.  I  do  not 
come  from  the  Government ;  I  would  not  presume  to  wait  on 
you  in  such  a  cause !  " 

''What's  the  peerage  tome?  I  have  no  descendants  to 
profit  by  my  infamy.  I  cannot  barter  my  honor  for  my 
children's  greatness  !  I  'm  prouder  with  that  old  hat  on  my 
head  than  with  the  coronet ;  tell  them  that.  Tell  them  that 
Joe  Curtis  was  the  only  man  in  all  Ireland  they  never  could 
purchase ;  tell  them  that  when  I  had  an  estate  I  swore  to 
prosecute  for  a  poacher  their  ducal  Viceroy  if  he  shot  a 
snipe  over  my  lands ;  and  that  I  'm  the  same  man  now  I  was 
then  !  " 

Crowther  sighed  heavily,  like  one  who  has  a  wearisome 
task  before  him,  but  must  go  through  with  it. 

"  If  I  could  but  persuade  you,  sir,  to  believe  that  my 
business  here  has  no  connection  with  politics  whatever; 
that  the  Castle  has  nothing  to  do  with  it  — " 

"Ay,  I  see,"  cried  Curtis,  "it's  Lord  Charlemont  sent 
you.  It 's  no  use  ;  I  '11  have  nothing  to  say  to  any  of  them. 
He 's  too  fond  of  Castle  dinners  and  Castle  company  for 
me !  I  never  knew  any  good  come  of  the  patriotism  that 
found  its  way  up  Corkhill  at  six  o'clock  of  an  evening  !  " 

"Once  for  all,  Mr.  Curtis,  I  say  that  what  brought  me 
here  this  morning  was  to  show  you  that  Mr.  Fagan  would 
be  willing  to  surrender  all  claim  against  you  for  outstanding 
liabilities,  and  besides  to  settle  on  you  a  very  handsome 
annuity,  in  consideration  of  some  concessions  on  your  pint 
with  respect  to  a  property  against  which  he  has  very  large 
claims." 

"  What 's  the  annuity,  —  how  much? "  cried  Curtis,  hastily. 


206  SIR   JASPER   CAREW. 

''What  sum  would  you  yourself  feel  sufficient,  sir?  He 
empowered  me  to  consult  your  own  wishes  and  expectations 
on  the  subject." 

"  If  I  was  to  say  a  thousand  a-year,  for  instance?"  said 
Curtis,  slowly. 

"  I'm  certain  he  would  not  object,  sir." 

' '  Perhaps  if  I  said  two,  he  'd  comply  ?  " 

"  Two  thousand  pounds  a-year  is  a  large  income  for  a 
single  man,"  replied  Crowther,  sententiously. 

"So  it  is;  but  I  could  spend  it.  I  spent  eight  thousand 
a-year  once  in  my  life,  and  when  my  estate  was  short  of 
three !  and  that 's  what  comes  of  it ;"  and  he  gave  the  settle- 
bed  a  rude  kick  as  he  spoke.  "  Would  he  give  two?  That's 
the  question,  Crowther:  would  he  give  two?" 

"  I  do  not  feel  myself  competent  to  close  with  that  offer, 
Mr.  Curtis ;  but  if  you  really  think  that  such  a  sum  is 
necessary  —  " 

"  I  do,  —  I  know  it ;  I  could  n't  do  with  a  shilling  less  ;  in 
fact,  I  'd  find  myself  restricted  enough  with  that.  When- 
ever I  had  to  think  about  money,  it  was  hateful  to  me.  Tell 
him  two  is  the  lowest,  the  very  lowest,  I  'd  accept  of ;  and 
if  he  wishes  to  treat  me  handsomely,  he  may  exceed  it. 
You  're  not  to  judge  of  my  habits,  sir,  from  what  you  see 
here,"  added  he,  fiercely;  "this  is  not  what  I  have  been 
accustomed  to.  You  don't  know  the  number  of  people  who 
look  up  to  me  for  bread.  My  father's  table  was  laid  for 
thirty  every  day,  and  it  had  been  well  for  us  if  as  many 
more  were  not  fed  at  our  cost  elsewhere." 

"  I  have  often  heard  tell  of  Meagh-valley  House  and  its 
hospitalities,"  said  Crowther,  blandly. 

"  '  Come  over  and  drink  a  pipe  of  port'  was  the  invita- 
tion when  I  was  a  boy.  A  servant  was  sent  round  to  the 
neighborhood  to  say  that  a  hogshead  of  claret  was  to  be 
broached  on  such  a  day,  and  to  beg  that  the  gentlemen 
around  would  come  over  and  help  to  drink  it,  —  ay,  to  drink 
it  out!  Your  piperly  hounds,  with  their  two-bottle  mag- 
num, think  themselves  magnificent  nowadays;  why,  in  my 
time  they  'd  have  been  laughed  to  scorn  !  " 

"They  were  glorious  times  indeed,"  cried  Crowther,  with 
mad  enthusiasm. 


"FUM'S   ALLEY,   NEAR   THE   PODDLE."  207 

"  Glorious  times  to  beggar  a  nation,  to  prostitute  public 
honor  and  private  virtue,"  broke  iu  Curtis,  passionately  ; 
"  to  make  men  heartless  debauchees  first,  that  they  might 
become  shameless  scoundrels  after ;  to  teach  them  a  youth 
of  excess  and  an  old  age  of  venality.  These  were  your 
Glorious  Times !  But  you,  sir,  may  be  forgiven  for  prais- 
ing them ;  to  you,  and  others  like  you,  they  have  been 
indeed  '  Glorious  Times ' !  Out  of  them  grew  those  law- 
suits and  litigations  that  have  enriched  you,  while  they 
ruined  us.  Out  of  that  blessed  era  of  orgie  and  debauch 
came  beggared  families  and  houseless  gentry ;  men  whose 
fathers  lay  upon  down  couches,  and  whose  selves  sleep  upon 
the  like  of  that ;  "  and  the  rude  settle  rocked  as  his  hand 
shook  it.  "Out  upon  your  Glorious  Times,  say  I;  you 
might  as  well  call  the  drunken  scene  of  a  dinner-party  a  pic- 
ture of  domestic  comfort  and  happiness !  It  was  a  long 
night  of  debauchery,  and  this  that  we  now  see  is  the  sad 
morning  afterwards !  Do  you  know  besides,  sir,"  contin- 
ued he,  in  a  still  fiercer  tone,  "  that  in  those  same  '  Glorious 
Times,'  you,  and  others  of  your  stamp,  would  have  been 
baited  like  badgers  if  found  within  the  precincts  of  a  gen- 
tleman's house?  Ay,  faith,  and  if  my  memory  does  not 
betray  me,  I  can  call  to  mind  one  or  two  such  instauces." 

The  violence  of  the  old  man's  passion  seemed  to  have 
exhausted  him,  and  he  sat  down  on  the  bed,  breathing 
heavily  and  panting. 

"Where  were  we?"  cried  he  at  last.  "What  was  it 
that  we  were  arguing?  Yes  —  ay  —  to  be  sure  —  these  bills 
—  these  confounded  bills.  I  can't  pay  them.  I  would  n't 
if  I  could.  That  scoundrel  Fagan  has  made  enough  of  me 
without  that.  What  was  it  you  said  of  an  annuity  ?  There 
was  some  talk  of  an  annuity,  eh? " 

Crowther  bent  down,  and  spoke  some  words  in  a  low, 
murmuring  voice. 

"Well,  and  for  that  what  am  I  to  do?"  cried  Curtis, 
suddenly.  "  My  share  of  the  compact  is  heavy  enough, 
I'll  be  sworn.     What  is  it?" 

"  I  think  I  can  show  you  that  it  is  not  much  of  a  sacrifice, 
sir.  I  know  you  hate  long  explanations,  and  I  '11  make 
mine  very  brief.    Mr.  Fagan  has  very  heavy  charges  against 


208  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

au  estate  which  is  not  unlikely  to  be  the  subject  of  a  dis- 
puted ownership.  It  may  be  a  long  suit,  with  all  the 
delays  and  difficulties  of  Chancery;  and  in  looking  over 
the  various  persons  who  may  prefer  claims  here  and  there, 
we  find  your  name  amongst  the  rest,  for  it  is  a  long  list,  sir. 
There  may  be  forty  or  forty-five  in  all !  The  principal  one, 
however,  is  a  wealthy  baronet  who  has  ample  means  to 
prosecute  his  claim,  and  with  fair  hopes  of  succeeding. 
My  notion,  however,  was  that  if  Mr.  Fagan  could  arrange 
with  the  several  persons  in  the  cause  to  waive  their  de- 
mands for  a  certain  consideration,  that  it  would  not  be 
difficult  then  to  arrange  some  compromise  with  the  baronet 
himself,  —  he  surrendering  the  property  to  Fagan  for  a 
certain  amount,  on  taking  with  it  all  its  liabilities.  You 
understand  ?  " 

"  And  who  's  the  owner? "  asked  Curtis,  shortly. 

"  He  is  dead,  sir." 

"  Who  was  he  when  alive?  " 

"  An  old  friend,  or  rather  the  son  of  an  old  friend  of 
yours,  Mr.  Curtis  !  " 

"Ah,  Brinsley  Morgan!  I  guess  him  at  once;  but  you 
are  wrong,  quite  wrong  there,  my  good  fellow.  I  have  n't 
the  shadow  of  a  lien  on  his  estate.  We  talked  it  over  to- 
gether one  day,  and  Hackett,  the  Attorney-General,  who 
was  in  the  house,  said  that  my  claim  was  n't  worth  five 
shillings.  But  I  '11  tell  you  where  I  have  a  claim,  —  at  least 
Hackett  said  so,  I  have  a  very  strong  claim  —  No,  no  ;  I  was 
forgetting  again,  —  my  memory  is  quite  gone.  It  is  so  hard 
when  one  grows  old  to  bear  the  last  ten  or  fifteen  years  in 
mind.  I  can  remember  my  boyhood  and  my  school-days 
like  yesterday.  It  is  late  events  that  confuse  me  !  You  '11 
scarce  believe  me  when  I  tell  you  I  often  find  myself  going 
to  dine  with  some  old  friend,  and  only  discover  when  I  reach 
his  door  that  he  is  dead  and  gone  this  many  a  day  !  There 
was  something  in  my  mind  to  tell  you,  and  it  has  escaped 
me  already.  Oh !  I  have  it.  There  are  some  curious  old 
family  papers  in  that  musty-looking  portmanteau.  I  should 
like  to  find  out  some  clever  fellow  that  would  look  them 
over  without  rushing  me  into  a  lawsuit,  mind  ye,  for  I  have 
no  heart  for  that  now !     My  brother  Harry's  boy  is  dead. 


"FUM'S   ALLEY,   NEAR   THE   PODDLE."  209 

India  finished  him,  poor  fellow  !  That 's  the  key  of  it,  — 
see  if  it  will  open  the  lock." 

"  If  you  like  I  '11  take  them  back  with  me,  sir,  and  examine 
them  myself  at  home." 

"  Do  so,  Crowther.  Only  understand  me  well,  no  bills 
of  costs,  my  worthy  friend  ;  no  searches  after  this,  or  true 
copies  of  that ;  I  '11  have  none  of  them.  As  Dick  Parsons 
said,  I  'd  rather  spend  my  estate  at  the  '  Fives '  than  the 
'  Four  '  Courts." 

Crowther  gave  one  of  his  complacent  laughs  ;  and  having 
induced  Curtis  to  accept  an  invitation  for  the  following  day 
at  dinner,  he  took  the  portmanteau  under  his  arm  and 
withdrew. 

He  had  scarcely  descended  the  stairs  when  Dan  found  the 
door  unlocked,  and  proceeded  to  pay  his  visit  to  Curtis,  his 
mind  full  of  all  that  he  had  just  overheard,  and  wondering 
at  the  many  strange  things  he  had  been  a  listener  to. 

When  MacNaghten  entered,  he  found  Curtis  sitting  at  a 
table,  with  his  head  resting  on  his  hand,  and  looking  like 
one  deeply  engaged  in  thought.  Dan  saluted  him  twice, 
without  obtaining  a  reply,  and  at  last  said,  — 

"  They  said  that  you  had  a  visitor  this  morning,  and  so  I 
have  been  waiting  for  some  time  to  see  you." 

The  other  nodded  assentingly,  but  did  not  speak. 

"You  are,  perhaps,  too  much  tired  now,"  said  Dan,  in  a 
kind  voice,  "  for  much  talking.  Come  and  have  a  turn  in 
the  open  air;  it  will  refresh  you." 

Curtis  arose  and  took  his  hat,  without  uttering  a  word. 

"  Yrou  are  a  good  walker,  Curtis,"  said  MacNaghten,  as 
they  reached  the  street.  "  What  say  you  if  we  stroll  down 
to  Harold's  Cross,  and  eat  our  breakfast  at  the  little  inn 
they  call  '  The  Friar'?" 

"  Agreed,"  muttered  the  other,  and  walked  along  at 
his  side,  without  another  word;  while  Dan,  to  amuse  his 
companion,  and  arouse  him  from  the  dreary  stupor  that 
oppressed  him,  exerted  himself  in  various  ways,  recount- 
ing the  popular  anecdotes  of  the  day,  and  endeavoring,  so 
far  as  might  be,  to  entertain  him. 

It  was  soon,  however,  evident  that  Curtis  neither  heard 
nor  heeded  the  efforts  the  other  was  making,  for  he  con- 
u 


210  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

tinued  to  move  along  with  his  head  down,  mumbling  at 
intervals  to  himself  certain  broken  and  incoherent  words. 
At  first,  MacNaghten  hoped  that  this  moody  dejection 
would  pass  away,  and  his  mind  recover  its  wonted  sharp- 
ness ;  but  now  he  saw  that  the  impression  under  which  he 
labored  was  no  passing  or  momentary  burden,  but  a  heavy 
load  that  weighed  wearily  on  his  spirits. 

"lam  afraid  you  are  scarcely  so  well  as  usual  to-day?  " 
asked  Dan,  after  a  long  interval  of  silence  between  them. 

"  I  have  a  pain  hereabouts,  — it  is  not  a  pain  either  ,  but 
I  feel  uneasy,"  said  Curtis,  pushing  his  hat  back  from  his 
forehead,  and  touching  his  temple  with  his  finger. 

"  It  will  pass  away  with  the  fresh  air  and  a  hearty  break- 
fast, I  hope.  If  not,  I  will  see  some  one  on  our  return. 
Who  is  your  doctor?  " 

' '  My  doctor  !  You  ask  a  man  who  has  lived  eighty-four 
years  who  is  his  doctor  !  That  nature  that  gave  him  a  good 
stout  frame ;  the  spirit  that  told  him  what  it  could,  and 
what  it  could  not,  bear,  —  these,  and  a  hearty  contempt  for 
physic  and  all  that  live  by  it,  have  guided  me  so  far,  and 
you  may  call  them  my  doctors  if  you  wish." 

Rather  pleased  to  have  recalled  the  old  man  to  his  habit- 
ual energy,  Dan  affected  to  contest  his  opinions,  by  way  of 
inducing  him  to  support  them ;  but  he  quickly  saw  his  error, 
for  Curtis,  as  though  wearied  by  even  this  momentary  effort, 
seemed  more  downcast  and  depressed  than  before. 

MacNaghten,  therefore,  contented  himself  with  some  com- 
monplace remarks  about  the  country  around  and  the  road 
they  were  walking,  when  Curtis  came  to  a  sudden  halt,  and 
said,  — 

"  You  would  n't  take  the  offer,  I  '11  be  sworn.  You'd  say 
at  once  :  '  Show  me  what  rights  I  'm  surrendering ;  let  me 
know  the  terms  of  the  agreement.'  But  what  signifies  all 
that  at  my  age  ?  —  the  last  of  the  stock  besides  !  If  I  lay 
by  what  will  pay  the  undertaker,  it 's  all  the  world  has  a 
right  to  demand  at  my  hands." 

"Here's  'The  Friar,'  —  this  is  our  inn,"  said  Mac- 
Naghten. "Shall  I  be  the  caterer,  eh?  What  say  you  to 
some  fried  fish  and  a  glass  of  Madeira,  to  begin  with?" 

"  I  '11  have  a  breakfast,  sir,  that  suits  my  condition,"  said 
Curtis,  haughtily.     "  Send  the  landlord  here  for  my  orders." 


"PUM'S   ALLEY,  NEAR  THE   PODDLE."  211 

"Here's  our  man,  then,"  said  MacNaghten,  humoring 
the  whim,  as  he  pushed  the  innkeeper  towards  him. 

"What's  your  name,  my  good  fellow?"  asked  Curtis, 
with  a  supercilious  look  at  the  short  but  well-conditioned 
figure  before  him. 

"  Billy  Mathews,  sir,"  said  the  other,  with  difficulty  re- 
straining a  smile  at  the  dilapidated  look  of  his  interrogator. 

"  Well,  Mathews,  keep  the  Billy  for  your  equals,  my  good 
friend.  Mathews,  I  say,  let  us  have  the  best  your  house 
affords,  served  in  your  best  room  and  in  your  best  manner. 
If  I  ate  prison  fare  for  nine  weeks,  sir,  it  is  no  reason  that 
I  am  not  accustomed  to  something  different.  My  name  is 
Joseph  Curtis,  of  Meagh-valley  House ;  I  sat  in  Parliament 
for  eight-and-twenty  years,  for  the  borough  of  Kilternon ; 
and  I  was  tried  for  a  murder  at  the  last  commission.  There, 
sir !  it 's  not  every  day  you  have  a  guest  who  can  say  as 
much." 

As  the  landlord  was  moving  away  to  give  his  orders, 
Curtis  called  out  once  more  :  — 

"  Stay,  sir;  hear  me  out.  There  are  spies  of  the  Castle 
wherever  I  go.  Who  have  you  here  just  now?  Who  's  in 
this  house?  " 

"There's  but  one  gentleman  here  at  present,  sir.  I've 
known  him  these  twenty  years,  and  I  '11  vouch  for  it  he  's 
neither  a  Government  spy  nor  an  informer." 

"And  who  will  be  satisfied  with  your  guarantee,  sir?" 
cried  Curtis,  insolently.  "It's  not  a  fellow  in  your  posi- 
tion that  can  assure  the  scruples  of  a  man  in  mine.  Who 
is  he?    What 's  his  name?" 

"He's  a  respectable  man,  sir,  well  known  in  Dublin,  and 
the  son  of  one  that  held  a  good  position  once." 

"  His  name,  —  his  name!  "  cried  Curtis,  imperiously. 

"  It 's  no  matter  about  his  name  !  "  replied  the  host,  sulkily. 
"  He  has  come  to  eat  his  breakfast  here,  as  he  does  once  or 
twice  a  week,  and  that's  all  that  I  have  to  say  to  him." 

"  But  I  '11  have  his  name,  —  I  '11  insist  upon  it,"  shouted 
out  Curtis,  in  a  voice  of  high  excitement;  "persecuted  and 
hunted  down  as  I  am,  I'll  defend  myself.  Your  Castle 
bloodhounds  shall  see  that  Joe  Curtis  will  not  run  from  them. 
This  o;entleman  here  is  the  son  of  MacNas;hten  of  Greenan. 


212  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

What  signifies  it  to  you  if  he  be  ruined !  What  affair  is  it 
of  yours,  I  ask,  if  he  has  n't  a  sixpence  in  the  world?  —  I'll 
pay  for  what  he  takes  here.  I  'm  responsible  for  every- 
thing. I  have  two  thousand  a  year  secured  on  my  life," 
—  he  stopped,  and  seemed  to  reflect  for  a  moment,  then 
added,  —  "  that  is,  I  may  have  it  if  I  please." 

MacNaghten  made  a  signal  for  the  innkeeper  to  serve  the 
breakfast,  and  not  notice  any  of  the  extravagances  of  his 
strange  companion.  Mathews  was  about  to  obey,  when 
Curtis,   recurring  to  his  former  thought,  cried  out,  — 

>■ '  Well,  sir,  this  fellow's  name?  " 

"  Tell  him  who  it  is,"  whispered  Dan,  secretly;  and  the 
host  said,  — 

"  The  gentleman  is  one  Mr.  Raper,  sir,  head  clerk  to  Mr. 
Fagan,  of  Mary's  Abbey." 

"  Leave  the  room — close  the  door,"  said  Curtis,  with  an 
an  of  caution.  "  I  saw  the  signal  you  gave  the  innkeeper  a 
moment  ago,  MacNaghten,"  said  he,  in  the  same  low  and 
guarded  tone.  "  I  read  its  meaning  perfectly.  You  would 
imply  :  The  old  fellow  is  not  right  —  a  crack  in  the  upper 
story  —  humor  him  a  bit.  Don't  deny  it,  man ;  you  acted 
for  the  best ;  you  thought,  as  many  think,  that  my  misfor- 
tunes had  affected  my  intellect  and  sapped  my  understanding  ; 
and  so  they  had  done  this  many  a  day,"  added  he,  fiercely, 
"  but  for  one  thing.  I  had  one  grand  security  against 
madness,  Dan  ;  one  great  barrier,  my  boy  :  shall  I  tell  it 
you?  It  was  this,  then:  that  if  my  head  wandered  some- 
times, my  heart  never  did  —  never !  I  hated  the  English 
and  their  party  in  this  country  with  a  hate  that  never  slept, 
never  relaxed  !  I  knew  well  that  I  was  the  only  man  in 
Ireland  that  they  could  not  put  down.  Some  they  bought  — 
some  they  ruined  —  some  they  intimidated  —  some  they  de- 
stroyed by  calumny.  They  tried  all  these  with  me,  and  at 
last  were  driven  to  a  false  accusation,  and  had  me  up  for 
a  murder !  and  that  failed  them,  too !  Here  I  stand,  their 
opponent,  just  as  I  did  fifty-two  years  ago,  and  the  only 
man  in  all  Ireland  that  dares  to  brave  and  defy  them.  They  'd 
make  me  a  peer  to-morrow,  Dan  ;  they  'd  give  me  a  colonial 
government ;  they  'd  take  me  into  the  Cabinet ;  there  is  not  a 
demand  of  mine  they  'd  say  '  No '  to,  if  I  'd  join  them ;  but 


"FUM'S   ALLEY,   NEAR   THE   PODDLE."  213 

my  answer  is,  'Never!  never!'  Go  down  to  your  grave, 
Joe  Curtis,  ruined,  ragged,  half-famished,  mayhap.  Let 
men  call  you  a  fool,  and  worse  !  but  the  time  will  come,  and 
the  people  will  say  :  There  was  once  a  man  in  Ireland  that 
never  truckled  to  the  Castle,  nor  fawned  on  the  Viceroy; 
and  that  when  he  stood  in  the  dock,  with  his  life  on  the 
venture,  told  them  that  he  despised  their  vengeance,  though 
he  knew  that  they  were  covering  it  with  all  the  solemnity  of 
a  law-court;  and  that  man  his  contemporaries  —  ay,  even 
his  friends  —  were  pleased  to  call  Mad  !  " 

"Come,  come,  Curtis,  you  know  well  this  is  not  my 
impression  of  you;  you  only  say  so  jestingly." 

"It's  a  sorry  theme  to  crack  jokes  upon,"  said  the  other, 
sadly.  He  paused,  and  seemed  to  reflect  deeply  for  some 
minutes,  and  then,  in  a  voice  of  peculiar  meaning,  and  with 
a  look  of  intense  cunning  in  his  small  gray  eyes,  said,  "  We 
heard  the  name  he  mentioned,  —  Raper,  Fagan's  man  of 
business.  Let 's  have  him  in,  MacNaghten  ;  the  fellow  is  a 
half  simpleton  in  many  things.     Let's  talk  to  him." 

"Would  you  ask  Mr.  Raper  to  join  our  breakfast?" 
asked  Dan  of  the  innkeeper. 

"He  has  just  finished  his  own,  sir;  some  bread  and 
water-cresses,  with  a  cup  of  milk,  are  all  that  he  takes." 

"  Poor  fellow !  "  said  Dan,  "  I  see  him  yonder  in  the  sum- 
mer-house ;  he  appears  to  be  in  hard  study,  for  he  has  not 
raised  his  head  since  we  entered  the  room.  I'll  go  and  ask 
him  how  he  is." 

MacNaghten  had  not  only  time  to  approach  the  little  table 
where  Raper  was  seated  unobserved,  but  even  to  look  over 
the  object  of  his  study,  before  his  presence  was  recognized. 

"German,  Mr.  Raper;  reading  German?"  cried  Mac- 
Naghten.    "  I  know  the  characters,  at  least." 

"  Yes,  sir,  it  is  German  ;  an  odd  volume  of  Richter  that  I 
picked  up  a  few  days  ago.  A  difficult  author  at  first,  some- 
what involved  and  intricate  in  construction :  here,  for 
instance  is  a  passage  —  " 

"  My  dear  friend,  it  is  all  a  Greek  chorus  to  me,  or  any- 
thing else  you  can  fancy  equally  unintelligible." 

"  It  is  the  story  of  an  humble  man,  a  village  cobbler,  who 
becomes  by  an  accident  of  fortune  suddenly  rich.     Now,  the 


214  SIR   JASPER   CAREW. 

author,  instead  of  describing  the  incidents  of  life  and  the 
vicissitudes  that  encounter  him,  leaves  us  only  to  guess,  or 
rather  to  supply  them  for  ourselves,  by  simply  dwelling 
upon  all  the  '  Gediinkskriege,'  or  mental  conflicts,  that 
are  the  consequences  of  his  altered  position.  The  notion 
is  ingenious,  and  if  not  overlayed  with  a  certain  dreamy 
mysticism,  would  be  very  interesting." 

"  I,"  said  Dan,  ''would  far  rather  hear  of  his  acts  than 
his  reflections.  What  he  did  would  amuse  me  more  to  know 
than  to  learn  why." 

"But  how  easy  to  imagine  the  one!"  exclaimed  Raper. 
"  Wealth  has  its  habits  all  stereotyped:  from  Dives  to  our 
own  clays  the  catalogue  has  been  ever  the  same,  '  purple  and 
fine  linen.'  And  if  some  have  added  to  the  mere  sensual 
pleasures  the  higher  enjoyments  derivable  from  objects  of 
art  and  the  cultivation  of  letters,  has  it  not  been  because 
their  own  natures  were  more  elevated,  and  required  such 
refinements  as  daily  necessaries?  The  humble  man,  sud- 
denly enriched,  lives  no  longer  in  the  sphere  of  his  former 
associates,  but  ascends  into  one  of  whose  habits  he  knows 
nothing  ;  and  Jean  Paul  condemns  him  for  this,  and  reminds 
him  that  when  a  river  is  swollen  by  autumn  rains  it  does 
not  desert  its  ancient  channel,  but  enlarges  the  sphere  of 
its  utility,  by  spreading  fertilization  on  each  side  of  it, 
seeming  to  think :  I  may,  by  the  accidents  of  life,  grow 
small  and  humble  again ;  it  is  as  well  that  I  should  not 
quit  the  tiny  course  I  have  followed  in  my  humble 
fortunes." 

"And  do  you  agree  with  him?  "  asked  Dan,  more  amazed 
by  the  enthusiasm  of  his  companion  than  by  the  theme  that 
suggested  it. 

"I  do  so  in  everything;  I  speak,  of  course,  as  one  who 
knows  nothing  of  those  ambitions  by  which  wealthy  men  are 
encompassed  ;  I  am  not  in  the  position  of  one  who  has  seen 
and  felt  these  fascinations,  and  who  emerges  from  his  poverty 
to  re-assume  a  former  station.  Take  the  case  of  Mr.  Curtis, 
for  instance." 

"  What !  old  Curtis  —  Joe  Curtis?  "  asked  Dan,  eagerly. 

"  Yes,  Curtis,  formerly  of  Meagh-valley.  Well,  if  his 
claim  be  as  good  as  they  suppose,  he  '11  not  only  inherit  the 


"FUM'S   ALLEY,   NEAR   THE   TODDLE."  215 

great  Wicklow  estates,  but  the  AVestern  property  so  long  in 
Chancery." 

MacNaghten  saw  that  Raper  was  pouring  forth  this 
knowledge  without  being  conscious  that  he  was  making 
an  important  revelation,  and  gave  a  dry,  commonplace 
assent. 

"  Who  can  say  what  may  not  be  his  income?  "  exclaimed 
Raper,  thoughtfully  ;   "  twenty  thousand  a-year,  at  the  least." 

"And  his  prospects  are  good,  you  say, — his  chances  of 
success  ?  " 

"  The  marriage  certificate  of  Noah  Curtis  and  Eleanor 
Carew  has  been  discovered,  sir,  and  if  the  will  of  Fownes 
Carew  be  authentic,  the  case,  I  believe,  is  clear." 

1 '  What  Carews  were  these  ?  " 

"The  ancestors  of  Walter  Carew,  sir,  whose  estates  now 
descend  to  the  heirs  of  the  female  branch." 

"  And  Curtis  will  inherit  these?  " 

The  tone  in  which  Dan  uttered  these  words  so  startled 
Raper  that  he  suddenly  recovered  his  self-possession,  and 
remembered  how  unguardedly  he  had  related  this  mysterious 
piece  of  intelligence. 

' ;  When  was  this  discovery  made  ?  —  who  chanced  to  trace 
this  relationship  between  Curtis  and  the  Carew  family?" 
cried  MacNaghten,  in  intense  anxiety. 

A  signal  from  Raper  suddenly  suggested  caution  and 
reserve ;  but  Dan,  too  much  excited  to  attend  it,  went  on : 

"  Sir,  never  believe  it!  It  is  some  infernal  scheme  con- 
cocted between  Fagan  and  the  lawyers.  They  have  put 
forward  this  wretched  old  man,  half-witted  as  he  is  —  " 

A  hand  grasped  Dan's  arm  as  he  said  this ;  he  turned, 
and  there  stood  Curtis  beside  him! 

"  I  've  heard  you  both !  "  said  the  old  man,  dryly.  "  To 
you,  sir,"  said  he  to  Raper,  "  I  owe  my  thanks  for  a  piece  of 
welcome  news ;  to  you,  MacNaghten,  I  feel  grateful  for  all 
your  candor ! " 

"Come,  come,  Curtis;  be  angry  with  me,  if  you  will; 
but  for  Heaven's  sake  do  not  lend  yourself  to  these  base 
plots  and  schemes.  If  there  be  a  conspiracy  to  rob  poor 
Walter's  widow  and  her  child,  let  not  one  of  his  oldest,  best 
friends  have  any  share  in  it." 


216  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

"  I  '11  maintain  my  rights,  sir,  be  assured  of  that!  "  said 
Curtis,  with  a  degree  of  resolution  strangely  different  from 
his  former  manner.  "Mr.  MacNaghten's  impression  of  my 
competence  to  conduct  my  own  affairs  may  possibly  be  dis- 
paraging, but,  happily,  there  is  another  tribunal  which  shall 
decide  on  that  question.  Raper,  I  'm  going  into  town,  —  will 
you  accompany  me?  Mr.  MacNaghten,  I  wish  you  a  good 
morning."  And  with  these  words  he  took  Raper's  arm,  and 
retired,  leaving  Dan  still  standing,  mute,  overwhelmed,  and 
thunderstruck. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

PROSPERITY    AND    ADVERSITY. 

What  I  have  heretofore  mentioned  of  the  events  which 
followed  immediately  on  my  father's  death  were  all  related 
circumstantially  to  me  by  MacNaghten  himself,  who  used  to 
dwell  upon  them  with  a  most  painfully  accurate  memory. 
There  was  not  an  incident,  however  slight,  there  was  not  a 
scene  of  passing  interest,  that  did  not  leave  its  deep  impres- 
sion on  him ;  and,  amid  all  the  trials  of  his  own  preca- 
rious life,  these  were  the  events  which  he  recurred  to  most 
frequently. 

Poor  fellow,  how  severely  did  he  reproach  himself  for  ca- 
lamities that  no  effort  of  his  could  avert !  How  often  has  he 
deplored  mistakes  and  errors  which,  though  they  perhaps 
hastened,  by  no  means  caused,  the  ruin  that  imperilled  us. 
The  simple  fact  was,  that  in  his  dread  of  litigation,  from 
which  almost  all  his  own  misfortunes  had  sprung,  he  en- 
deavored to  conduct  affairs  which  required  the  most  acute 
and  subtle  intelligence  to  guide.  He  believed  that  good 
sense  and  good  intentions  would  be  amply  sufficient  to 
divest  my  father's  circumstances  of  all  embarrassment ;  and 
when,  at  last,  he  saw  two  claimants  in  the  field  for  the  prop- 
erty —  immense,  almost  fabulous,  demands  from  Fagan  — 
and  heard,  besides,  that  no  provision  was  made  for  my 
mother,  whose  marriage  was  utterly  denied  and  disbelieved, 
—  then  he  appears  to  have  lost  all  self-control  altogether, 
and  in  his  despair  to  have  grasped  at  any  expedient  that 
presented  itself ;  one  day  addressing  a  confidential  letter 
to  Sir  Carew  O'Moore,  whom  he  regarded  as  the  rightful 
heir  to  the  property ;  the  next,  adventuring  to  open  rela- 
tions with  Curtis,  through  the  mediation  of  Fagan.  Every 
weak  point  in  my  mother's  position  became,  of  course,  ex- 


218  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

posed  by  these  fruitless  communications ;  while,  by  his  own 
change  of  purpose,  he  grew  to  be  distrusted  by  each  in  turn. 

It  was  a  theme  that  he  avoided  speaking  on ;  but  when 
questioned  closely  by  me,  he  has  owned  that  Curtis  exer- 
cised a  kind  of  sway,  a  species  of  terror-like  influence,  over 
him  that  totally  overcame  him. 

"  That  old,  besotted,  crazy  intellect,"  said  he,  "  appeared 
to  have  recovered  freshness  and  energy  with  prosperity ; 
and,  animated  with  almost  diabolical  acuteness,  to  profit  by 
every  weakness  of  my  own  nature.  Even  Fagau,  with  all 
his  practised  craft,  had  to  succumb  to  the  shrewd  and  keen- 
witted powers  of  the  old  man  ;  and  Crowther  owned  that  all 
his  experience  of  life  had  not  shown  him  his  equal  in  point 
of  intelligence." 

A  misanthropic,  bitter  spirit  gave  him  a  vigor  and  energy 
that  his  years  might  have  denied  him ;  and  there  was  a  kind 
of  vindictive  power  about  him  that  withstood  all  the  effects 
of  fatigue  and  exhaustion. 

The  law  had  now  begun  its  campaign  in  right  earnest. 
There  were  two  great  issues  to  be  tried  at  bar,  and  a  grand 
question,  involving  any  amount  of  intricacy,  for  the  Chan- 
cery Court.  The  subject  was  the  possession  of  a  large 
estate,  and  every  legal  celebrity  of  the  day  was  engaged 
by  one  side  or  the  other.  Of  course  such  an  event  became 
the  general  topic  of  discussion  in  all  circles,  but  more  par- 
ticularly in  those  wherein  my  father  had  once  moved.  Alas 
for  the  popularity  of  personal  qualities,  —  how  short-lived  is 
it  ever !  Of  the  many  who  used  to  partake  of  his  generous 
hospitality,  and  who  benefited  by  his  friendship,  how  few 
could  now  speak  even  charitably  of  his  acts !  Indeed,  it 
would  appear,  from  the  tone  in  which  they  spoke,  that 
each,  even  the  least  observant  or  farseeing,  had  long  antici- 
pated his  ruin.  Such  absurd  extravagance,  such  preten- 
sion !  A  house  fit  for  a  sovereign  prince,  and  a  retinue  like 
that  of  royalty  !  And  then  the  daily  style  of  living,  —  end- 
less profusion  and  waste!  The  "French  connection"  — 
none  would  say  marriage  —  also  had  its  share  of  repro- 
bation. The  kindly  disposed  only  affected  to  deplore  and 
grieve  over  the  unhappy  mistake.  The  rigidly  right  seemed 
to  read  in  his  own  downfall  a  justice  for  a  crime  committed ; 


PROSPERITY   AND   ADVERSITY.  219 

while  another  section,  as  large  as  either,  "  took  out"  their 
indignation  at  his  insolence  in  having  dared  to  present  her 
to  the  world  as  his  wife  ! 

And  yet  his  once  warm  heart  was  scarcely  cold  when  they 
said  these  things  of  hirn.  And  so  it  is  to  this  day  and 
to  this  hour :  the  same  code  of  morality  exists,  and  the  same 
set  of  moralizers  are  to  be  met  with  everywhere.  Far  be  it 
from  me  to  say  that  faults  and  follies  should  pass  unnoticed 
and  uustigmatized ;  but,  at  least,  let  the  truth-teller  of 
to-day  not  have  been  the  tuft-hunter  of  yesterday,  —  let  the 
grave  monitor  who  rebukes  extravagance,  not  once  have 
been  the  Sybarite  guest  who  provoked  excess ;  but  least  of 
all  let  us  hear  predictions  of  ruin  from  the  lips  that  only 
promised  long  years  of  happiness  and  enjoyment. 

Events  moved  rapidly.  The  Chancellor  appointed  a 
receivership  over  the  property,  and  an  order  from  the  Court 
required  that  immediate  possession  should  be  taken  of  the 
house  and  demesne.  My  father's  balance  at  his  bankers' 
amounted  to  some  thousand  pounds.  This,  too,  was  seques- 
tered by  a  judge's  order,  "  awaiting  proceedings."  An 
inventory  of  everything,  even  to  the  personal  effects  of 
my  mother,  the  jewellery  she  had  brought  with  her  from 
France,  her  very  wardrobe,  was  taken.  The  law  has  a 
most  microscopic  eye  for  detail.  Carriages,  horses,  servants' 
liveries,  were  numbered .  the  very  cradle  in  which  lay  her 
baby  was  declared  to  belong  to  some  unknown  owner ;  and 
a  kind  of  mystical  proprietorship  seemed  to  float  unseen 
through  the  chambers  and  corridors  of  that  devoted  dwelling. 

My  poor  mother !  —  removed  from  room  to  room,  with 
good-natured  care,  to  spare  her  the  shock  of  proceedings 
which  even  her  ignorance  of  the  world  might  have  taken 
alarm  at ;  weak,  scarcely  able  to  walk ;  only  half  conscious 
of  the  movement  around  her ,  asking  every  moment  for 
explanations  which  none  had  courage  to  give  her ;  agitated 
with  vague  terror ;  a  sense  of  some  misfortune  lowering  over 
her,  and  each  moment  nearer;  catching  at  a  chance  word 
dropped  here  ;  eagerly  watching  at  every  look  there,  —  what 
misery,  what  suffering  was  yours,  poor,  friendless,  forsaken 
widow ! 

"Where  was  MacNaghten,  her  one  faithful  friend  and  coun- 


220  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

sellor?  He  had  gone  to  town  early  that  morning,  and  had 
not  yet  returned.  One  last  but  fruitless  effort  to  induce 
Curtis  to  come  to  terms  had  led  him  again  to  seek  an  inter- 
view. Her  cousin  De  Gabriac,  who  had  been  ill  for  several 
days,  had  by  a  mere  accident,  from  expressions  picked  up  by 
his  valet  in  the  household,  learned  the  nature  of  the  allega- 
tion against  my  mother,  —  that  her  marriage  was  denied, 
and  my  illegitimacy  declared.  Almost  driven  to  madness 
by  what  sounded  like  an  outrage  to  his  pride,  he  had  set  out 
for  Dublin  to  fasten  upon  some  one  —  any  one  —  a  personal 
quarrel  in  the  vindication  of  my  mother's  honor.  Fagan's 
address  was  known  to  him,  by  frequent  mention  of  his  name, 
and  thither  he  accordingly  hastened.  The  Grinder  was  from 
home ;  but  to  await  his  return,  De  Gabriac  was  ushered  up- 
stairs into  the  drawing-room,  where  an  elderly  man  was 
seated  writing  at  a  table.  The  old  man  lifted  his  head  and 
slightly  saluted  the  stranger,  but  continued  his  occupation 
without  any  further  notice,  and  De  Gabriac  threw  himself 
into  a  chair  to  wait,  with  what  patience  he  could,  for  Fagan's 
coming. 

There  was  a  newspaper  on  the  table,  and  De  Gabriac  took 
it  up  to  spell  as  he  could  the  intelligence  of  the  day.  Almost 
the  very  first  lines  which  caught  his  eye  were  an  announce- 
ment of  an  "  Extensive  sale  of  valuable  furniture,  plate,  and 
household  effects,  late  the  property  of  Walter  Carew,  Esq." 
Certain  enigmatical  words  that  headed  the  advertisement 
puzzled  the  foreigner,  and,  unable  to  restrain  his  eagerness 
to  unravel  their  meaning,  he  advanced  to  the  table  where 
the  old  man  was  writing,  and  in  a  polite  tone  asked  him  to 
explain  what  meant  such  phrases  as  "  In  re  Joseph  Curtis, 
Esq.,  of  Meagh- valley  House,  and  others,  petitioners." 

The  other,  thus  addressed,  looked  from  the  newspaper  to 
the  inquirer,  and  back  again  to  the  paper,  and  then  to  the 
astonished  face  of  the  Frenchman,  without  a  word.  "  I 
have  to  hope,"  said  De  Gabriac,  "that  nothing  in  my 
question  may  appear  rude  or  uncivil.  I  merely  wished  to 
know  —  " 

"  To  know  who  Joseph  Curtis  is  !  "  broke  in  the  old  man, 
quickly.  "  Then  I  '11  tell  you,  sir.  He  is  the  only  surviving 
son  of  Robert  Harrison  Curtis  and  Eleanor  Anne,  his  wife, 


PROSPERITY   AND   ADVERSITY.  221 

born  at  Meagh-valley  House,  in  the  parish  of  Cappagh, 
barony  of  Ivrone,  Anno  Domini  1704.  Served  in  Parlia- 
ment for  twenty-eight  years,  and  commanded  the  militia  of 
his  native  county  till  deprived  of  that  honor  by  a  rascally 
Government  and  a  perjured  Viceroy."  Here  his  voice  grew 
loud,  and  his  manner  violent  and  excited.  "  Since  when, 
sir,  harassed,  persecuted,  aud  tortured,  he  has  been  robbed  of 
his  estates,  stripped  of  his  property,  and  left  houseless  and 
friendless,  —  ay,  sir,  friendless,  I  say  ;  for  poverty  and  want 
attract  no  friendship,  —  and  who  would  still  be  the  victim 
of  knavery  and  scoundrelism  if  Providence  had  not  blessed 
him  with  a  clear  head  as  well  as  a  strong  heart.  Such  he  is, 
and  such  he  stands  before  you.  And  now,  sir,  that  I  have 
answered  your  question,  will  you  favor  me  with  a  reply  to 
mine  :  what  are  you  called?  " 

"  I  am  the  Count  Emile  de  Gabriac,"  said  the  French- 
man, smiling;  "I  will  spare  you  the  pedigree  aud  the 
birthplace." 

"  Wisely  done,  I've  no  doubt,  sir,"  said  Curtis,  "  if,  as  I 
surmise,  you  are  the  relative  of  that  French  lady  whom  I  met 
at  Castle  Carew." 

"  You  speak  of  my  cousin,  sir,  —  Madame  de  Carew." 

"  I  do  not  recognize  her  as  such,  sir,  nor  does  the  law  of 
this  country." 

"  How  do  you  mean,  sir,  —  not  married?  Is  it  such  you 
would  imply  ?  "  cried  De  Gabriac,   fiercely. 

kt  Never  imagine  that  your  foreign  airs  can  terrify  me, 
young  gentleman,"  said  Curtis,  insolently.  "  I  've  seen  you 
in  your  own  country,  and  know  well  the  braggadocio  style 
you  can  assume.  If  you  ask  me  for  information,  do  so  with 
the  manner  that  beseems  inquiry.  If  you  are  for  a  quarrel, 
it's  not  Joe  Curtis  will  balk  your  good  intentions." 

"Poor  old  fool,"  said  De  Gabriac,  contemptuously. 
"  If  you  had  a  grandson  or  a  nephew  to  answer  for  your 
insolence  —  " 

"But  I  have  neither,  I  want  neither;  I  am  ready,  will- 
ing, and  able  to  defend  my  own  honor;  and  this  is  exactly 
what  I  suspect  you  are  unable  to  say." 

"Bui  you  do  not  suppose  that  I  can  cross  a  weapon  with 
the  like  of  you  !  "  said  De  Gabriac,  with  au  insolent  laugh. 


222  SIR   JASPER    CAREW. 

"  You  would  u't  be  a  Frenchman  if  you  had  u't  a  subter- 
fuge to  escape  a  meeting !  "  cried  Curtis,  with  a  most  taunt- 
ing impertinence  of  manner. 

"  This  is  pushing  insolence  too  far,  old  man,"  said  De 
Gabriac,  barely  able  to  restrain  himself. 

"  And  yet  not  far  enough,  it  would  seem,  to  prompt  you 
to  an  act  of  manhood.  Now  hear  me,  Monsieur  Count.  I 
am  no  admirer  of  your  country,  nor  its  ways ;  but  this  I  will 
say,  that  a  French  gentleman,  so  far  as  I  have  seen  of  them, 
was  always  ready  to  resent  an  insult ;  and  whenever  a  slight 
was  passed  by  unnoticed,  the  presumption  ever  was  that  he 
who  endured  it  was  not  a  gentleman.  Is  it  to  some  such 
explanation  you  wish  to  conduct  me  in  the  present  case?  " 

A  contemptuous  exclamation  and  a  glance  of  ineffable 
disdain  was  all  the  reply  the  Count  vouchsafed  to  this  out- 
rageous appeal ;  and  probably  by  no  means  could  he  so  effect- 
ually have  raised  the  old  man's  anger.  Any  allusion  to  his 
age,  to  the  infirmities  that  pertained  to  it,  he  bore  always 
with  the  greatest  impatience ;  but  to  suppose  that  his  time 
of  life  placed  him  beyond  self-vindication  was  an  insult  too 
great  to  be  endured,  and  he  would  have  braved  any  peril  to 
avenge  it.  His  sudden  access  to  wealth,  far  from  allaying 
the  irritabilities  of  his  nature,  had  increased  and  exagger- 
ated them  all.  The  insolence  of  prosperity  was  now  added 
to  the  querulous  temperament  that  narrow  fortune  had 
engendered,  and  the  excitement  of  his  brain  was  little  short 
of  actual  frenzy.  To  what  extent  of  outrage  passion  might 
have  carried  him  there  is  no  saying,  for  he  was  already 
hurriedly  advancing  towards  the  Count,  when  the  door 
opened,  and  Polly  Fagan  entered.  She  had  overheard  from 
an  adjoining  room  the  words  of  high  altercation,  and  recog- 
nizing Curtis  as  one  of  the  speakers,  determined,  at  any  cost, 
to  interfere. 

"I  am  sure,  sir,"  said  she,  addressing  the  old  man,  while 
she  courtesied  deeply  to  the  stranger,  ' '  that  you  will  forgive 
my  intrusion ;  but  I  only  this  moment  learned  that  you  were 
here  writing,  and  I  thought  that  probably  the  quiet  seclusion 
of  my  room  would  suit  you  better  :  may  I  make  bold  to 
offer  it  to  you?  " 

"Thanks,  madam;  but,  with  your  leave,  this  is  quite  to 
my  taste,"  said  he,  stiffly. 


PROSPERITY   AND   ADVERSITY.  223 

"It  is  so  comfortable,  sir,  and  looks  out  upon  our  little 
garden  !  "  said  Polly,  coaxiugly. 

''I  am  certain,  madam,  that  it  has  every  attraction,  and 
only  needs  your  presence  there  to  be  incomparable." 

"Nay,  sir,"  said  she,  laughing,  "I'll  not  take  your  in- 
nuendo, save  in  its  flattering  sense." 

"  I  never  flatter,  madam,  for  I  would  n't  try  to  pass  on 
another  the  base  coinage  I  'd  reject  myself.  Others,  how- 
ever," and  here  he  glanced  towards  the  Frenchman,  "  may 
not  have  these  scruples ;  and  I  am  sure  the  charms  of  your 
apartment  will  be  fully  appreciated  elsewhere." 

Polly  blushed  deeply,  not  the  less  so  that  the  Frenchman's 
eyes  were  bent  upon  her  during  the  delivery  of  the  speech 
with  evident  admiration. 

"  If  mademoiselle  would  permit  me,  even  as  a  sanctu- 
ary —  "  began  the  Count. 

"Just  so,  Miss  Polly,"  broke  in  Curtis;  "let  him  take 
refuge  there,  as  he  tells  you,  for  he  feels  very  far  from  at 
his  ease  in  my  company." 

Polly's  quick  intelligence  read  in  these  few  words  the  real 
state  of  the  case ;  and,  resolved  at  all  hazards  to  prevent 
untoward  consequences,  she  made  a  sign  to  the  Frenchman 
to  follow  her,  and  left  the  room. 

It  was  in  vain  that  the  old  man  re-seated  himself  at  the 
writing-table  ;  all  his  efforts  at  composure  were  fruitless,  and 
he  muttered  to  himself  threats  of  vengeance  and  impreca- 
tions till  he  worked  his  mind  up  to  a  state  of  ungovernable 
fury.  It  was  in  the  very  paroxysm  of  this  passion,  and 
while  he  was  pacing  the  chamber  with  hasty  steps,  that 
Fagan  entered. 

"Nothing  unpleasant  has  occurred,  sir,  I  trust,"  ex- 
claimed the  Grinder,  as  he  beheld  the  agitated  face,  and 
watched  the  lips  that  never  ceased  to  mutter  unintelligibly. 

"Tell  me,  sir,"  cried  he,  advancing  up  to  Fagan,  and 
placing  one  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  "tell  me,  sir,  what  is 
there  in  my  age  and  appearance  that  should  exclude  me  from 
exacting  the  satisfaction  in  vogue  amongst  gentlemen?  I 
ask  you,  sir,  in  plain  language, — and  you  have  a  right  to 
answer  me,  for  it  was  in  your  house  and  under  your  roof 
that  I  have  received  this  outrage,  —  where  and  what  is  my 
disqualification?  " 


224  SIR   JASPER   CAREW. 

"  Pray  explain  yourself,  Mr.  Curtis.  I  trust  I  have  n't 
heard  you  aright,  and  that  any  one  had  dared  to  offend  you 
within  these  walls  !  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  in  the  very  room  where  we  stand,  not  half  an 
hour  ago,  an  insolent  scoundrel  of  a  foreigner  —  a  French 
lackey,  a  hairdresser,  perhaps  —  has  had  the  insolence  to 
talk  to  me,  a  gentleman  of  fortune  and  position,  a  man 
whose  estate  places  him  in  the  first  rank  of  this  country's 
gentry.  You  said  so  yesterday.  Don't  deny  it,  sir  ;  I  quote 
your  own  very  words." 

"lam  most  ready  and  willing  to  repeat  them,  Mr.  Curtis," 
said  Fagan,  humbly;   "  pray  go  on." 

"  You  said  yesterday,"  continued  Curtis,  "  in  the  presence 
of  two  others,  that,  except  Lord  Kiltimon's,  there  was  not 
so  large  a  property  in  the  country ;  did  you,  sir,  or  did  you 
not?" 

"  I  certainly  did  say  so,  sir." 

' '  And  now,  sir,  you  would  go  back  of  it,  —  you  had  some 
reservation,  some  qualifying  something  or  other,  I  '11  be 
bound ;  but  I  tell  you,  Mr.  Anthony  Fagan,  that  though 
these  habits  may  suit  an  apple-stall  in  Mary's  Abbey,  they 
are  unbecoming  when  used  in  the  presence  of  men  of  rank 
and  fortune.  I  believe  that  is  plain  speaking,  sir;  I  trust 
there  may  be  no  misconception  of  my  meaning,  at  least !  " 

Fagan  was  not,  either  by  nature  or  by  disposition,  disposed 
to  submit  tamely  to  insult ;  but  whether  it  was  from  some 
strong  reason  of  policy,  or  that  he  held  Curtis  as  one  not 
fully  responsible  for  his  words,  he  certainly  took  no  steps  to 
resent  his  language,  but  rather  seemed  eager  to  assuage  the 
violence  of  the  old  man's  temper. 

"It's  all  very  well,  sir,"  said  Curtis,  after  listening  with 
considerable  show  of  impatience  to  these  excuses  ;  "  it 's  all 
very  well  to  say  you  regret  this,  and  deplore  that.  But  let 
me  tell  you  there  are  other  duties  of  your  station  beside 
apologies.  You  should  take  measures  that  when  persons 
of  my  rank  and  station  accept  the  shelter  of  your  roof,  they 
are  not  broken  in  upon  by  rascally  foreigners,  vile  adven- 
turers, and  swindlers !  You  may  be  as  angry  as  you  please, 
sir,  but  I  will  repeat  every  word  I  have  said.  Yes,  Mr. 
Fagan ;  I  talk  from  book,  sir,  —  I  speak  with  knowledge ; 


PROSPERITY   AND  ADVERSITY.  225 

for  when  you  were  serving  out  crab-apples,  in  a  check-apron, 
at  your  father's  stall,  I  was  travelling  on  the  Continent  as 
a  young  gentleman  of  fortune  !  " 

"  Until  you  tell  me  how  you  have  been  insulted,  and  by 
whom,"  said  Fagan,  with  some  warmth,  "  I  must  hope  that 
there  is  some  easily  explained  mistake." 

"Egad!  this  is  better  and  better,"  exclaimed  Curtis. 
•'No,  sir,  you  mistake  me  much;  you  entirely  misunder- 
stand me.  I  should  most  implicitly  accept  your  judgment 
as  to  a  bruised  peach  or  a  blighted  pear ;  but  upon  a  ques- 
tion of  injured  honor  or  of  outraged  feeling,  I  should  scarcely 
defer  to  you  so  humbly  !  "  and  as  he  said  these  words,  with 
an  air  of  most  exaggerated  self-importance,  he  put  on  his 
hat  aud  left  the  room,  without  once  noticing  the  respectful 
salutation  of  the  Grinder. 

AYhen  Fagan  entered  his  daughter's  room,  he  was  sur- 
prised at  the  presence  of  the  stranger,  whom  she  presented 
to  him  as  the  Count  de  Gabriac,  and  who  had  so  far  pro- 
fited by  the  opportunity  as  to  have  already  made  a  most 
favorable  impression  upon  the  fair  Polly. 

Polly  rapidly  told  her  father  that  the  stranger,  while 
awaitiug  his  return,  had  been  accidentally  exposed  to  the 
most  outrageous  treatment  from  Curtis,  to  shelter  him  from 
a  continuance  of  which  she  had  offered  him  the  hospitality 
of  her  own  apartment. 

"He  came  in,"  resumed  she,  "  to  learn  some  tidings  of 
his  cousin's  affairs ;  for  it  appears  that  law  proceedings  of 
the  most  rigorous  kind  are  in  operation,  and  the  poor  widow 
will  be  obliged  to  leave  Castle  Carew." 

Polly  spoke  with  true  feelings  of  regret,  for  she  really 
now  learned  for  the  first  time  that  my  mother's  position 
was  involved  in  any  difficulty,  though  from  what  precise 
cause  she  was  still  in  ignorance. 

"  Leave  me  to  speak  with  the  Count  alone,  Polly;  I  can 
probably  afford  him  the  information  he  seeks." 

The  interview  was  not  of  long  duration ;  but  Fagan 
acquitted  himself  with  a  degree  of  tact  and  delicacy  that 
scarcely  seemed  native  to  him.  It  is  difficult  to  guess  at 
his  real  motives  in  the  matter.  Perhaps  he  entertained  some 
secret  doubts  that  my  mother's  marriage  might  one  day  or 
15 


226  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

other  admit  of  proof ;  perhaps  he  felt  some  touch  of  grati- 
tude for  the  treatmeut  his  daughter  had  experienced  when 
a  guest  at  Castle  Carew.  Indeed,  he  spoke  of  this  to  the 
Count  with  pride  and  satisfaction.  Whatever  the  reasons, 
he  used  the  greatest  and  most  delicate  reserve  in  alluding 
to  my  mother's  situation,  and  told  De  Gabriac  that  the  pro- 
ceedings, however  rigorous  they  might  appear,  were  common 
in  such  cases,  and  that  when  my  mother  had  sufficiently 
recovered  herself  to  give  detailed  information  as  to  the 
circumstances  of  her  marriage,  there  would  be  ample  time 
and  opportunity  to  profit  by  the  knowledge.  He  went  even 
further,  and  suggested  that  for  the  present  he  wished  to 
place  his  little  cottage  at  the  Killeries  at  her  disposal,  until 
such  time  as  she  could  fix  upon  a  residence  more  to  her 
taste.  In  fact,  both  his  explanations  and  his  offers  were 
made  so  gracefully  and  so  kindly  that  De  Gabriac  assented 
at  once,  and  promised  to  come  to  dinner  on  the  following 
day  to  complete  all  the  arrangements. 

When  MacNaghten  came  to  hear  of  the  plan,  he  was  over- 
joyed, not  only  because  it  offered  a  home  to  my  mother  in 
her  houseless  destitution,  but  as  evidencing  a  kind  spirit  on 
Fagan's  part,  from  which  he  augured  most  favorably.  In 
fact,  the  arrangement,  while  relieving  them  from  all  present 
embarrassment,  suggested  also  future  hope ;  and  it  was  now 
determined  that  while  De  Gabriac  was  to  accompany  my 
mother  to  the  far  west,  Dan  himself  was  to  set  out  for 
France,  with  a  variety  of  letters  which  might  aid  him  in 
tracing  out  the  story  of  my  father's  marriage. 

It  was  at  an  humble  little  hotel  in  Stafford  Street,  a  quaint 
old  house  called  "  The  Hart,"  that  they  passed  the  last  even- 
ing together  before  separating.  Polly  Fagan  came  over  to 
drink  tea  with  my  mother,  and  they  chatted  away  in  sombre 
mood  till  past  midnight.  MacNaghten  was  to  sail  with  an 
early  tide,  and  they  agreed  to  sit  up  till  it  should  be  his 
time  to  depart.  Often  and  often  have  I  heard  Dan  speak  of 
that  evening.  Every  incident  of  it  made  an  impression 
upon  his  memory  quite  disproportioned  to  their  non-impor- 
tance, and  he  has  taken  pains  even  to  show  me  where  each 
of  them  sat.  The  corner  where  my  mother's  chair  stood  is 
now  before  me,  and  I  fancy  I  can  bring  up  her  pale  young 


PROSPERITY  AND  ADVERSITY.  227 

widow's  face,  tear-furrowed  and  sad,  trying  to  look  inter- 
ested where,  with  all  her  efforts,  her  wandering  thoughts 
were  ever  turning  to  the  past,  and  where  by  no  exertion 
could  she  keep  pace  with  those  who  "sorrowed  not  as 
she  sorrowed." 

"  We  did  not  dare  to  talk  to  her  of  the  future,"  said  poor 
MacNaghten,  —  "  her  grief  was  too  holy  a  thing  to  be  dis- 
turbed by  such  thoughts ;  but  amongst  ourselves  we  spoke 
whisperingly  of  when  we  were  all  to  meet  again,  and  she 
seemed  to  listen  to  us  with  interest.  It  was  strange  enough," 
remarked  he,  "  how  sorrow  had  blended  all  our  natures,  — 
differing  and  discordant  as  Heaven  knows  they  were  —  into 
some  resemblance  of  a  family.  I  felt  towards  Polly  as 
though  she  had  been  my  sister,  and  totally  forgot  that 
Gabriac  belonged  to  another  land  and  another  people :  so 
humanizing  is  the  touch  of  affliction  !  " 

It  struck  three ;  and  at  four  o'clock  Dan  was  to  sail. 
As  he  stood  up,  he  caught  sight  of  my  mother,  and  saw  that 
her  eyes  were  full  of  tears.  She  made  a  signal  to  him  to 
approach,  and  then  said,  in  a  fervent  whisper,  — 

"  Come  and  see  him  before  you  go;  "  and  led  the  way  to 
the  adjoining  room,  where  her  baby  lay  asleep.  "  I  know," 
said  she,  in  broken  accents,  "that  you  will  be  a  friend  to 
him  always  ;    but  if  aught  were  to  befall  you  —  " 

MacXaghten  cast  his  eyes  heavenward,  but  made  no 
answer. 

"  Yes,"  cried  she,  "  I  have  that  hope;  "  and,  so  saying, 
she  knelt  down  beside  the  little  cot  to  pray. 

"It  was  odd,"  said  he,  when  telling  me  this.  "I  had 
never  heard  words  of  prayer  in  the  French  language  before ; 
but  they  struck  upon  my  heart  with  a  power  and  significance 
I  cannot  explain.  "Was  it  some  strange  inward  conscious- 
ness of  the  power  of  Him  before  whom  I  was  standing,  and 
who  knows  every  tongue  and  every  people,  and  to  whom  all 
hearts  are  open,  let  their  accents  be  ever  so  unlike  or  so 
various?  I  was  in  the  street,"  added  he,  "  without  knowing 
how  I  came  there,  for  my  brain  was  turning  with  a  thousand 
thoughts. 

"  '  Where  to,  sir?'  said  the  carman. 

"'The  Pigeon  House,'  said  I,  seating  myself  on  the 
vehicle. 


228  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

"  «  Ain't  you  Mr.  MacNaghten,  sir?'  asked  a  large,  well- 
dressed  man,  in  a  civil  voice,  as  he  touched  his  hat  respect- 
fully to  me. 

"  '  That  is  my  name,'  replied  I. 

"  '  Mr.  Daniel  MacNaghten,  of  Garrah  Lynn?'  asked  he, 
again. 

"  '  When  I  owned  it,'  rejoined  I,  trying  to  smile  at  a  sad 
recollection. 

"  '  Then  I  have  a  writ  against  you,  sir,'  continued  he, 
'  and  I'm  sorry  I  must  execute  it,  too.' 

"'At  whose  suit,  and  for  what  sum?'  asked  I,  trying 
to  be  calm  and  collected.  He  answered  mj'  last  question 
first,  by  saying  it  was  for  an  acceptance  for  twelve  hundred 
and  seventy-six  pounds  odd ;  and,  after  a  little  pressing, 
added,  — 

"  '  At  the  suit  of  Joseph  Curtis,  Esq.,  of  Meagh- valley 
House.' 

"  '  What 's  to  be  done? '  said  I.     'I  cannot  pay  it.' 

"  'Come  over  to  Green  Street  for  the  present,  anyhow,' 
said  he,  civilly;   '  there  are  plenty  of  houses.' 

"  '  No,  no;  to  jail,  if  I  must,'  said  I,  boldly.  'It's  not 
myself  I  was  thinking  about.' 

"  Just  as  day  was  breaking,  I  passed  into  the  prison ; 
and  when  I  thought  to  be  looking  upon  the  mountains  of 
the  bay  slowly  fading  behind  me,  I  was  ushered  into  the 
debtors'  yard,  to  wait  till  my  future  dwelling-place  should  be 
assigned  me." 

I  copy  this  incident  in  the  very  words  he  himself  related  it 


CHAPTER  XXL 


Having  already  acquainted  my  reader  with  the  source  from 
which  I  have  derived  all  these  materials  of  my  family  history, 
he  will  riot  be  surprised  to  learn  that  MacNaghten's  imprison- 
ment leaves  a  blank  in  this  part  of  my  narrative.  All  that  I 
know,  indeed,  of  these  early  years  can  be  told  in  a  few  lines. 
My  mother  repaired  with  me  to  the  cottage  in  the  Killeries, 
to  which  also  came  De  Gabriac  shortly  after,  followed  by 
Polly  Fagan,  whose  affection  for  my  mother  now  exhibited 
itself  most  remarkably.  Not  vainly  endeavoring  to  dam  up 
the  current  of  a  grief  that  would  flow  on,  she  tried  to  interest 
my  mother  in  ways  and  by  pursuits  which  were  totally  new 
to  her,  and,  consequently,  not  coupled  with  painful  recollec- 
tions. She  taught  her  to  visit  the  poor  in  their  cabins  ;  to 
see  them,  in  the  hard  struggle  of  their  poverty,  stoutly  con- 
fronting fortune  day  by  day,  carrying  the  weary  load  of 
adversity,  without  one  hope  as  to  the  time  when  they  might 
cease  to  labor  and  be  at  rest.  These  rambles  through  wild 
and  unvisited  tracts  rewarded  them  well  in  the  grand  and 
glorious  objects  of  scenery  with  which  they  became  acquainted. 
It  was  everlasting  discovery,  —  now  of  some  land-locked  little 
bay,  half-hid  among  its  cliffs  ;  now  some  lone  island,  with  its 
one  family  for  inhabitants;  or  now  some  picturesque  bit  of 
inland  scenery,  with  wood  and  mountain  and  waving  grass. 
Occasionally,  too,  they  ventured  out  to  sea,  either  to  creep 
along  the  coast,  and  peep  into  the  rocky  caverns  with 
which  it  is  perforated,  or  they  would  set  sail  for  the  distant 
islands  of  Arran,  —  bleak  and  desolate  spots  on  the  wide, 
wild  ocean.  The  charms  of  landscape  in  its  grandest 
features  were,  however,  the  least  of  the  benefits  these  excur- 
sions conferred,  at  least  on  my  poor  mother.     She  learned 


230  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

then  to  see  and  to  feel  that  the  sorrows  of  life  fall  uni- 
formly ;  that  few,  indeed,  are  singled  out  for  especial  suffer- 
ing ;  and  that  the  load  is  apportioned  to  the  strength  that 
is  to  bear  it.  She  saw,  besides,  how  the  hard  necessities 
of  existence  formed  in  themselves  a  barrier  against  the  wear- 
ing influence  of  grief :  the  hands  that  must  labor  for  daily 
bread  are  not  wrung  in  the  wild  transports  of  misery  !  It  is 
the  law  of  human  nature,  and  the  claims  of  the  living  are  the 
counterpoise  to  the  memory  of  the  dead. 

Neither  her  early  education  nor  her  habits  disposed  her 
to  any  exertion.  All  her  ideas  of  life  were  circumscribed 
within  the  limits  of  certain  pleasures  and  enjoyments.  From 
her  infancy  she  had  never  known  any  other  care  than  how  to 
make  time  pass  swiftly  and  agreeably :  now  she  had  to  learn 
the  more  rewarding  lesson  that  life  can  be  profitably  passed  ; 
and  to  this  task  she  addressed  herself,  I  believe,  with  a 
hearty  earnestness. 

It  is  only  by  estimating  the  change  which  took  place  in  her 
character  at  this  time,  and  which  marked  it  during  the  short 
remainder  of  her  life,  that  I  am  led  to  speculate  upon  the 
cause.  Her  days  were  passed  in  intercourse  with  the  peas- 
antry, whom,  at  last,  she  began  to  understand,  through  all 
the  difficulties  of  their  strange  temperament  and  all  the 
eccentricities  of  their  habits.  There  was  not  a  cabin  for 
miles  round,  with  every  one  of  whose  inmates  she  was  not 
acquainted,  and  of  whose  joys  and  sorrows,  whose  hopes  and 
cares,  she  was  not  in  some  shape  the  participator. 

When  the  sea  was  too  rough  and  the  weather  too  wild  for 
the  fishermen  to  venture  out,  she  was  constantly  amongst 
them  with  some  material  for  home  occupation  ;  and  it  was 
curious  to  see  those  fingers,  which  had  never  been  used  to 
harder  toil  than  the  mock  labor  of  the  embroidery  frame, 
ingeniously  moving  through  the  mazes  of  a  fishing-net,  while 
in  her  foreign  English  she  would  relate  some  story  of  her 
Breton  countrymen,  certain  to  interest  those  who  sat  admir- 
ingly around  her. 

How  singular  it  is  that  the  experience  and  the  habits  which 
are  destined  to  guide  us  through  the  great  trials  of  life  are 
frequently  acquired  in  scenes  and  amongst  people  the  very 
opposite  to  those  wherein  the  lesson  is  to  be  profitable !    And 


AT   REST.  231 

yet  so  it  was.  In  exhorting  and  cheering  others  she  elevated 
the  tone  of  her  own  mind  ;  in  suggesting  exertion  to  the 
faint-hearted,  she  imbibed  courage  herself ;  and  when  teach- 
ing them  to  be  of  good  cheer,  she  spoke  the  language  of 
encouragement  to  herself.  Her  bodily  health,  too,  kept  pace 
with  her  mental.  She  who  rarely  had  ventured  out  if  the 
weather  merely  were  threatening,  could  now  face  the  storm- 
iest seasons  of  that  wild  west.  The  darkest  day  of  winter 
would  see  her  abroad,  braving  with  an  almost  childish  ex- 
citement the  beating  rain  and  wind,  or  fighting  onward  to 
some  lone  cabin  amongst  the  hills,  through  sleet  and  snow- 
drift, undeterred ! 

I  have  heard  but  little  of  the  life  they  led  within  doors, 
but  I  believe  that  the  evenings  were  passed  pleasantly  with 
books  and  conversation,  De  Gabriac  reading  aloud,  while 
my  mother  and  Polly  worked  ;  and  thus  the  winter  glided 
easily  over,  and  spring  was  now  approaching  ere  they  were 
well  aware  that  so  many  months  had  gone  by.  If  my  mother 
wondered  at  times  why  they  never  heard  from  MacNaghten, 
De  Gabriac  and  Polly,  who  were  in  the  secret  for  his  mishap, 
would  frame  various  excuses  to  account  for  his  silence. 
Meanwhile  they  heard  that  such  was  the  complication  of  the 
law  proceedings  which  concerned  the  estate,  so  intricate  the 
questions,  and  so  puzzling,  that  years  might  pass  in  litiga- 
tion ere  any  decision  could  be  come  to.  A  reserved  offer 
came  at  this  time  from  Sir  Carew  O'Moore  to  settle  some 
small  annuity  on  my  mother  if  she  would  relinquish  all  claim 
to  the  estate  in  his  favor ;  but  Fagan  hesitated  to  acquaint 
her  with  a  proposal  which  he  well  knew  she  would  reject, 
nnd  the  very  fact  of  which  must  be  an  insult  to  her  feelings. 
This  the  Grinder  commented  on  in  a  letter  to  his  daughter, 
while  he  also  avowed  that  as  he  saw  no  prospect  of  anything 
favorable  to  my  mother  likely  to  issue  from  the  course  of 
law,  he  must  press  upon  her  the  necessity  of  her  seeking  an 
asylum  in  her  own  country  and  amongst  her  own  friends. 

I  have  never  been  able  to  ascertain  why  my  mother  herself 
did  not  at  once  determine  on  returning  to  France  after  my 
father's  death.  Perhaps  the  altered  circumstances  of  her 
fortune  deterred  her.  There  might  have  been  reasons, 
perhaps,  on  the  score  of  her  birth.     My  impression  is,  that 


232  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

De  Gabriac  had  quitted  the  Continent  overwhelmed  with 
debt,  and  dared  not  return  there,  and  that,  as  his  counsels 
greatly  swayed  her,  she  was  influenced  by  whatever  argu- 
ments he  adduced. 

So  little  was  my  mother  acquainted  with  the  details  of  her 
altered  condition  in  life,  that  she  still  believed  a  small  but 
secure  income  remained  to  her ;  and  it  was  only  by  a  few 
lines  addressed  to  her,  and  inclosed  in  a  letter  to  Polly,  that 
she  was  at  length  brought  to  see  that  she  was  actually  with- 
out means  of  support  for  a  single  clay,  and  that  hitherto  she 
had  been  a  dependent  on  Fagan's  kindness  for  a  home. 

I  believe  that  this  communication  was  not  made  with  any 
harshness  or  want  of  feeling ;  on  the  contrary,  that  it  was 
conveyed  with  whatever  delicacy  the  writer  could  summon  to 
so  ungracious  a  task.  It  is  more  than  probable,  besides, 
that  Fagan  would  not  have  made  it  at  all,  or  at  least  not  for 
a  considerable  time,  had  he  not  at  that  moment  been  involved 
in  an  angry  correspondence  with  Polly,  who  had  flatly  re- 
fused to  quit  my  mother  and  return  home.  Irritated  at 
this,  and  driven  to  extremities,  he  had  determined  in  this 
last  course  to  accomplish  his  object. 

My  mother  was  so  much  overwhelmed  by  the  tidings  that 
she  thought  she  could  not  have  understood  them  aright,  and 
hastened  to  Polly's  room,  with  the  letter  in  her  hand. 

"Tell  me,"  cried  she,  "  what  this  means.  Is  it  possible 
—  can  it  be  true  —  that  I  am  actually  a  beggar?  " 

Polly  read  the  lines  with  a  flashing  eye  and  heightened 
color,  but  never  uttered  a  word. 

"  Speak,  Polly,  dearest,  and  relieve  me  of  this  terrible 
fear,  if  you  can,"  cried  my  mother,  passionately. 

"  I  understand  what  this  means,"  said  Polly,  crushing  the 
note  in  her  hand  ;  "  this  is  a  question  that  requires  explana- 
tion. You  must  leave  it  to  me.  I  '11  go  up  to  town  this 
evening,  and  before  the  end  of  the  week  I  '11  be  back  with 
you.  My  father  is  mistaken,  —  that 's  all ;  and  you  have 
misunderstood  him !  " 

And  thus  planning,  and  excusing  and  contradicting  herself, 
she  at  last  succeeded  in  allaying  my  mother's  fears  and 
assuring  her  that  it  was  a  mere  misapprehension,  and  that 
a  few  days  would  suffice  to  rectify  it. 


AT  REST.  233 

My  mother  insisted  that  Polly  should  not  travel  alone,  and 
that  Gabriac  should  be  her  companion,  —  an  arrangement  to 
which  she  acceded  with  comparative  ease  and  willingness. 
Had  Polly  Fagan  and  Gabriac  merely  met  as  people  meet  in 
society,  with  no  other  opportunities  of  knowing  each  other 
than  are  presented  by  the  ordinary  intercourse  with  the  world, 
the  great  likelihood  is  that  they  should  have  conceived  for 
each  other  a  rooted  dislike.  There  was  scarcely  one  single 
subject  on  which  they  thought  in  common.  They  differed 
in  ideas  of  country  and  people.  Their  tastes,  their  preju- 
dices, their  ambitions,  all  took  opposite  directions ;  and  yet 
such  is  the  effect  of  intimacy,  such  the  consequence  of  daily, 
hourly  communion,  that  each  not  only  learned  to  tolerate, 
but  even  to  imbibe,  some  of  the  notions  of  the  other ;  and 
an  imperceptible  compromise  was  at  length  entered  into,  by 
which  individuality  became  tempered  down,  and  even  the 
broad  traits  of  nationality  almost  effaced.  The  Count  came 
to  perceive  that  what  he  had  at  first  regarded  as  coarse  and 
inelegant  was  in  reality  the  evidence  of  only  a  bold  and 
vigorous  spirit,  exulting  in  its  own  energy,  and  confident  of 
its  power;  and  Polly  began  to  recognize  that  remarkable 
truth,  that  a  coxcomb  need  not  necessarily  be  a  coward, 
and  that  the  most  excessive  puppyism  can  consort  with  even 
a  chivalrous  courage  and  daring.  Of  these  qualities  —  the 
very  first  in  Polly's  estimation  — he  had  given  several  proofs 
in  then-  adventures  by  sea  and  land,  and  under  circum- 
stances, too,  where  the  very  novelty  of  the  peril  to  be  sur- 
mounted might  have  suggested  some  fear. 

There  is  a  generous  impulse  usually  to  exalt  in  our  esteem 
those  whom  we  had  once  held  cheaply,  when  on  nearer  inti- 
macy we  discover  that  we  had  wronged  them.  TVe  feel  as 
if  there  was  a  debt  of  reparation  due  to  them,  and  that  we 
are  unjust  till  we  have  acquitted  it.  It  may  chance  that 
now  and  then  this  honorable  sentiment  may  carry  us  beyond 
reasonable  bounds,  and  that  we  are  disposed  to  accord  even 
more  than  is  due  to  them. 

I  have  no  means  of  knowing  if  such  were  the  case  here  :  I 
can  but  surmise  from  other  circumstances  the  causes  which 
were  in  operation.  It  is  enough,  however,  if  I  state  that 
long  before  Gabriac  had  passed  the  limit  of  admiration  for 


234  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

Polly,  she  had  conceived  for  him  a  strong  sentiment  of  love ; 
and  while  he  was  merely  exerting  those  qualities  which  are 
amongst  the  common  gifts  of  his  class  and  his  country,  she 
was  becoming  impressed  with  the  notion  of  his  vast  superi- 
ority to  all  of  those  she  had  ever  met  in  society.  It  must 
be  taken  into  account  that  his  manner  towards  her  evinced 
a  degree  of  respect  and  devotion  which,  though  not  over- 
passing the  usual  observance  of  good  manners  in  France, 
contrasted  very  favorably  with  the  kind  of  notice  bestowed 
by  country  gentlemen  upon  "the  Grinder's  daughter." 
Those  terrible  traditions  of  exorbitant  interest,  those  fatal 
compacts  with  usury,  that  had  made  Fagan's  name  so  dread- 
fully notorious  in  Ireland,  were  all  unknown  to  Gabriac. 
He  only  saw  in  Polly  a  very  handsome  girl,  of  a  far  more 
than  common  amount  of  intelligence,  and  with  a  spirit  dar- 
ingly ambitious.  As  the  favored  friend  and  companion  of 
his  cousin,  he  took  it  for  granted  that  the  peculiar  customs 
of  Ireland  admitted  such  intimacies  between  those  socially 
unequal,  and  that  there  was  nothing  strange  or  unusual  in 
seeing  her  where  she  was.  He  therefore  paid  her  every  at- 
tention he  would  have  bestowed  on  the  most  high-born  dam- 
sel of  his  own  court ;  he  exhibited  that  deference  which  his 
own  language  denominated  homage  ;  and,  in  fact,  long  before 
he  had  touched  her  affections,  he  had  nattered  her  pride  and 
self-love  by  a  courtesy  to  which  she  had  never,  in  all  her 
intercourse  with  the  world,  been  habituated. 

Perhaps  my  reader  needs  not  one-half  of  the  explanation 
to  surmise  why  two  young  people  —  both  good-looking,  both 
attractive,  and  both  idle  —  should,  in  the  solitude  of  a  coun- 
try cottage,  fall  in  love  with  each  other.  That  they  did  so, 
at  all  events,  — she  first,  and  he  afterwards,  —  is,  however, 
the  fact;  and  now,  by  the  simple-hearted  arrangement  of 
my  poor  mother,  —  whose  thoughts  had  never  taken  in  such 
a  casualty,  —  were  they  to  set  off  together  as  fellow-travel- 
lers for  Dublin.  So  far,  indeed,  from  even  suspecting  such 
a  possibility,  it  was  only  a  few  days  previously  that  she  had 
been  deploring  to  Polly  her  cousin's  fickleness  in  breaking 
off  his  proposed  marriage  in  France,  on  the  mere  ground 
that  his  absence  must  necessarily  have  weakened  the  ties 
that  bound  him  to  his  betrothed.      What  secret  hopes  the 


AT  REST.  235 

revelation  may  have  suggested  to  Polly's   mind    is   matter 
that  I  cannot  even  speculate  on. 

It  was  with  a  heavy  heart  my  poor  mother  saw  them  drive 
from  the  door,  and  came  back  to  sit  down  in  solitude  beside 
the  cradle  of  her  baby.  It  was  a  dark  and  rainy  day  of 
winter ;  the  beating  of  the  waves  against  the  rocky  shore, 
and  the  wailing  winds,  made  sad  chorus  together ;  and  with- 
out, as  well  as  within,  all  was  cheerless  and  depressing. 
Dark  and  gloomy  as  was  the  landscape,  it  was  to  the  full  as 
bright  as  the  scene  within  her  own  heart ;  for  now  that  she 
began  to  arrange  facts  and  circumstances  together,  and  to 
draw  inferences  from  them,  she  saw  that  nothing  but  ruin 
lay  before  her.  The  very  expi-essions  of  Fagan's  letter,  so 
opposite  to  the  almost  submissive  courtesy  of  former  times, 
showed  her  that  he  no  longer  hesitated  to  declare  her  the 
dependent  on  his  bounty.  "  And  yet,"  cried  she,  aloud, 
"are  these  the  boasted  laws  of  England?  Is  the  widow 
left  to  starve?  —  is  the  orphan  left  houseless,  except  some 
formality  or  other  be  gone  through?  To  whom  descends 
the  heritage  of  the  father,  while  the  son  is  still  living  ? " 
From  these  thoughts,  which  no  ingenuity  of  hers  could 
pierce,  she  turned  to  others  not  less  depressing.  What  had 
become  of  all  those  who  once  called  themselves  her  hus- 
band's friends  ?  She,  it  is  true,  had  herself  lived  estranged 
and  retired  from  the  world  ;  but  Walter  was  everywhere,  — 
all  knew  him,  all  professed  to  love  him.  Bitter  as  ingrati- 
tude will  ever  seem,  all  its  poignancy  is  nothing  compared 
to  the  smart  it  inflicts  when  practised  towards  those  who 
have  gone  from  us  forever ;  we  feel  then  as  though  treach- 
ery had  been  added  to  the  wrong.  "Oh!"  cried  she,  in 
her  anguish,  "how  have  they  repaid  him  whose  heart  and 
hand  were  ever  open  to  them !  "  A  flood  of  recollections, 
long  dammed  up  by  the  habits  of  her  daily  life,  and  the 
little  cares  by  which  she  was  environed,  now  swept  through 
her  mind,  and  from  her  infancy  and  her  childhood,  in  all  its 
luxurious  splendor,  to  her  present  destitution,  each  passage 
of  her  existence  seemed  revealed  before  her.  The  solitude 
of  the  lonely  cottage  suggesting  such  utter  desolation,  and 
the  wild  and  storm-lashed  scene  without  adding  its  influence 
to  her  depression,  she  sat  for  some  time  still  and  unmoved. 


23(5  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

like  one  entranced  ;  and  then,  springing  to  her  feet,  she 
rushed  out  into  the  beating  rain,  glad  to  exchange  the 
conflict  of  the  storm  for  that  more  terrible  war  that  waged 
within  her. 

Like  one  flying  from  some  terrific  enemy,  she  ran  with 
all  her  speed  towards  the  shore.  The  sea  was  now  break- 
ing over  the  rocks  with  tremendous  force,  and  sending  vast 
clouds  of  spray  high  into  the  air,  while  whole  sheets  of  foam 
were  wildly  tossed  about  by  the  wind.  Through  these  she 
struggled  on ;  now  stumbling  or  falling,  as  her  tender  feet 
yielded  to  the  sharp  rocks,  till  she  reached  a  little  promontory 
over  the  sea,  on  which  the  waves  struck  with  all  their  force ; 
and  there,  with  streaming  hair  and  dripping  garments,  she  sat 
braving  the  hurricane,  and,  in  a  wild  paroxysm  of  imagined 
heroism,  daring  fortune  to  her  worst. 

Physical  ills  are  as  nothing  to  those  that  make  the  heart 
their  dwelling-place  ;  and  to  her  there  seemed  an  unspeak- 
able relief  in  the  thundering  crash  of  the  storm,  as  compared 
with  the  desolate  silence  of  her  lonely  house. 

The  whole  of  that  day  saw  her  on  the  selfsame  spot ;  and 
there  was  she  discovered  at  nightfall  by  some  fishermen, 
propped  up  in  a  crevice  of  the  rock,  but  cold,  and  scarcely 
conscious.  They  all  knew  her  well,  and  with  the  tenderest 
care  they  carried  her  to  her  cottage.  Even  before  they 
reached  it,  her  mind  began  to  wander,  and  wild  and  inco- 
herent words  dropped  from  her.  That  same  night  she  was 
seized  with  fever ;  the  benevolent  but  simple  people  about 
her  knew  not  what  to  do ;  the  nearest  medical  aid  was  many 
miles  off ;  and  when  it  did  arrive,  on  the  following  morning, 
the  malady  had  already  attacked  the  brain. 

The  same  sad,  short  series  of  events  so  many  have  wit- 
nessed, so  many  have  stood  by,  with  breaking  hearts,  now 
occurred.  To  wild  delirium,  with  all  its  terrible  excesses, 
succeeded  the  almost  more  dreadful  stupor ;  and  to  that 
again  the  brief  lucid  moment  of  fast-ebbing  life ;  and  then 
came  the  sleep  that  knows  no  waking  —  and  my  mother  was 
at  rest ! 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE    VILLAGE    OF    REICHENAU. 

I  must  now  ask  of  rny  reader  to  clear  at  a  bound  both  time 
and  space,  and  stand  beside  me  some  years  later,  and  in  a 
foreign  land. 

The  scene  is  at  the  foot  of  the  Splugen  Alps,  in  a  little 
village  begirt  with  mountains,  every  crag  and  eminence  of 
which  is  surmounted  by  a  ruined  castle.  There  is  a  grandeur 
and  solemnity  in  the  whole  landscape,  not  alone  from  its 
vast  proportions,  but  from  the  character  of  impregnability 
suggested  by  those  fastnesses  and  the  gray,  sad-colored  tint 
of  hill  and  verdure  around. 

There  is  barely  space  for  the  village  in  the  narrow  glen, 
which  is  traversed  by  two  streams,  —  the  one,  yellow,  turbid, 
and  sluggish ;  the  other,  sparkling,  bright,  and  impetuous. 
These  are  the  Rhines,  which,  uniting  below  the  village  of 
Reichenau,  form  that  noble  river  whose  vine-clad  cliffs  and 
castled  crags  are  lyrical  in  every  land  of  Europe. 

I  scarcely  know  a  spot  throughout  the  whole  Continent 
more  typical  of  isolation  and  retirement  than  this.  There 
is  no  entrauce  to  it  from  the  north,  save  by  a  wooden  bridge 
over  the  torrent ;  towards  the  south  it  is  only  accessible  by 
the  winding  zig-zag  of  the  "Via  Mala;"  east  and  west- 
ward rise  gigantic  mountains  untraversed  by  even  the 
chamois-hunter ;  and  yet  there  is  no  appearance  of  that 
poverty  and  destitution  so  usually  observable  in  remote  and 
unvisited  tracts.  Many  of  the  houses  are  large  and  sub- 
stantially built,  some  evince  a  little  architectural  pretension 
in  the  way  of  ornament,  and  one,  which  occupies  a  little 
terrace  above  the  river,  has  somewhat  the  air  of  a  chateau, 
and  in  its  windowed  roof  and  moated  gardens  shows  that  it 
aspired  to  the  proud  distinction  of  a  seignorial  residence. 


238  SIR   JASPER   CAREW. 

It  might  be  difficult  to  ascertain  how  an  edifice  of  this  size 
aud  pretension  came  to  be  built  in  such  a  place ;  at  the  time 
I  speak  of,  it  was  a  school,  and  a  modest-looking  little  board 
affixed  to  a  pear-tree  at  the  gate  announced,  "  The  Academy 
of  Monsieur  Jost."  In  my  boyish  eyes,  this  chateau,  its 
esplanade  above  the  stream,  the  views  it  embraced,  and  the 
wild,  luxuriant  orchard  by  which  it  was  begirt,  comprised 
an  amount  of  magnificence  and  beauty  such  as  no  stretch 
of  imagination  could  surpass.  In  respect  to  its  picturesque 
site,  my  error  was  probably  not  great :  the  mountain  scene, 
in  all  its  varied  tints  of  season  and  sunlight,  is  still  before 
me,  nor  can  I  remember  one  whose  impression  is  more 
pleasing. 

The  chateau,  for  so  it  was  called,  lost  nothing  in  my 
estimation  by  any  familiarity  with  its  details.  I  only  knew 
of  the  large  school-room  with  its  three  windows  that  opened 
on  the  terrace,  the  smaller  chamber  where  the  classical 
teacher  held  his  more  select  audience,  and  a  little  den,  fitted 
up  with  cases  of  minerals,  insects,  and  stuffed  birds,  which 
was  denominated  Monsieur  Jost's  cabinet,  and  where  that 
worthy  man  sat,  weeks,  months,  I  believe  years  long,  micro- 
scope in  eye,  examining  the  intricate  anatomy  of  beetles,  or 
poring  over  some  singular  provisions  in  the  eyelids  of  moths. 
Save  when  "brought  up"  for  punishment,  we  rarely  saw 
him.  Entirely  engrossed  with  his  own  pursuits,  he  seldom 
bestowed  a  thought  upon  us ;  and  when,  by  any  untoward 
incident  such  as  I  have  alluded  to,  we  were  thrust  into  his 
notice,  the  presence  of  a  strange-looking  butterfly,  a  bril- 
liant dragon-moth,  a  spider  even,  would  be  certain  to  divert 
his  thoughts  into  a  new  channel,  and  ourselves  and  our  dere- 
lictions be  utterly  forgotten.  Need  I  say  that  no  culprit 
ever  appeared  in  the  dock  without  some  such  recommenda- 
tion to  mercy,  nor  was  there  one  of  us  ever  unprepared 
with  some  specimen  of  the  insect  tribe,  ready  to  be  produced 
at  any  moment  of  emergency  ? 

It  is  but  fair  to  say  that  the  other  masters  —  there  were 
but  two  —  were  singularly  forbearing  and  indulgent.  Mon- 
sieur Gervois,  who  "  taught"  the  little  boys,  was  a  quaint- 
looking,  venerable  old  gentleman,  with  a  queue,  and  who 
wore  on  fete-days  a  ribbon  in  his  button-hole.     He  was,  it 


THE   VILLAGE   OF   REICHENAU.  239 

was  said,  originally  a  French  noble  of  large  fortune,  but  who 
had  lost  everything  by  the  extravagance  of  an  only  son,  and 
had  sought  out,  in  voluntary  exile,  this  remote  spot  to  end 
his  days  in.  His  manners  were  always  marked  with  a  tinge 
of  proud  reserve  which  none  ever  infringed  upon,  nor,  out 
of  school-hours,  did  any  one  ever  presume  to  obtrude  upon 
his  retirement. 

The  classical  teacher  was  a  foreigner,  we  knew  not  of  what 
nation;  we  called  him  sometimes  a  Pole,  now  a  Spaniard, 
now  an  Irishman,  —  for  all  these  nationalities  only  to  us 
expressed  distant  and  unknown  lands.  He  was  small  almost 
to  dwarfishness,  and  uniformly  dressed  in  a  suit  of  peculiarly 
colored  brown  cloth;  his  age  might  have  been  fifty,  sixty,  or 
even  more,  for  there  was  little  means  of  deciphering  the 
work  of  time  in  a  face  sad  and  careworn,  but  yet  unwrinkled, 
and  where  sorrow  had  set  its  seal  in  early  life,  but  without 
having  worn  the  impress  any  deeper  by  time.  Large  spec- 
tacles  of  blue  glass  concealed  his  eyes,  of  which,  the  story 
ran,  one  was  sightless ;  and  his  manner  was  uniformly  quiet 
and  patient,  —  extending  to  every  one  the  utmost  limit  of 
forbearance,  and  accepting  the  slightest  efforts  to  learn,  as 
evidences  of  a  noble  ambition.  To  myself  he  was  more  than 
generous,  —  he  was  truly  and  deeply  affectionate.  I  was  too 
young  to  be  one  of  his  class,  but  he  came  for  me  each  morn- 
ing to  fetch  me  to  the  school ;  for  I  did  not  live  at  the 
chateau,  but  at  a  small  two-storied  house  abutting  against 
the  base  of  the  mountain.  There  we  lived ;  and  now  let  me 
explain  who  we  were. 

But  a  peep  within  our  humble  sitting-room  will  save  both  of 
us  much  time.  I  have  called  it  humble,  —  I  might  have  used 
a  stronger  word  ;  for  it  was  poor  almost  to  destitution.  The 
wooden  chairs  and  tables;  the  tiled  floor ;  the  hearth,  on 
which  some  soaked  branches  of  larch  are  smoking;  the 
curtainless  window;  as  well  as  the  utter  absence  of  even  the 
very  cheapest  appliances  of  comfort, — all  show  indigence ; 
while  a  glance  at  the  worn  form  and  hollow  cheek  of  her 
who  now  bends  over  the  embroidery-frame  attests  that 
actual  want  of  sustenance  is  there  written.  Haggard  and 
thin  as  the  features  are,  it  needs  no  effort  to  believe  that 
they  once  constituted  beauty  of   a  high  order.     The  eye, 


240  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

now  sunken  and  almost  colorless,  was  once  flashing  in  its 
brilliancy ;  and  that  lip,  indrawn  and  bloodless,  was  full  and 
rounded  like  that  of  a  Grecian  statue.  Even  yet,  amidst  all 
the  disfigurement  of  a  coarse  dress,  the  form  is  graceful, 
and  every  motion  and  gesture  indicate  a  culture  that  must 
have  been  imbibed  in  a  very  different  sphere. 

How  I  have  her  before  me  at  this  instant,  as,  hearing  my 
childish  footstep  at  the  door,  she  pulls  the  string  to  admit 
me,  and  then,  turning  from  her  frame,  kneels  down  to  kiss 
me !  Monsieur  Joseph,  for  so  is  the  Latin  master  called, 
stands  just  within  the  doorway,  as  if  waiting  to  be  invited 
to  come  further. 

"  And  how  has  he  been  to-day,  — a  good  boy?"  asks  she. 

Monsieur  Joseph  smiles,  and  nods  his  head. 

"I'm  glad  of  it;  Jasper  will  always  behave  well.  He 
will  know  that  to  do  right  is  a  duty,  and  a  duty  fulfilled  is 
a  blessing.  What  says  Monsieur  Gervois,  —  is  he  content 
too?" 

"Quite  so,"  I  reply.  "  He  said  I  knew  my  hymn  per- 
fectly, and  that  if  I  learned  the  two  pages  that  he  showed 
me,  off  by  heart,  I  should  be  made  '  e'lite '  of  my  class." 

"And  what  will  that  be?" 

"  I  shall  be  above  them  all,  and  they  must  salute  me  when 
we  meet  out  of  school  and  in  play-hours." 

"  Let  them  do  so  iu  affection,  but  not  for  coercion,  Jasper ; 
he  who  is  cleverer  than  his  fellows  ought  to  be  humbler,  if 
he  would  be  as  happy." 

"Quite  true,  Polly,  quite  true;  you  never  said  anything 
more  just.  The  conscious  power  of  intellect  tells  its  posses- 
sor of  his  weakness  as  well  as  of  his  strength.  Jasper,  my 
child,  be  humble." 

"  But  when  I  said  humble,"  broke  in  she  again,  "  I  meant 
in  self-esteem ;  for  there  is  a  kind  of  pride  that  sustains  and 
elevates  us." 

Monsieur  Joseph  only  sighed  gently,  but  never  spoke. 

After  a  few  words  like  these,  I  was  usually  dismissed  to 
my  play-room,  a  little  corner  eked  out  of  an  old  tower  which 
had  been  accidentally  joined  to  the  house  after  it  was  built, 
but  which  to  me  was  a  boon  unspeakable,  for  it  was  all  my 
own ;  but  can  I  revel  in  the  delight  of  that  isolation  which 


THE   VILLAGE   OF   REICHENAU.  241 

each  afternoon  saw  me  enjoy?  I  would  briefly  tell  my 
reader,  if  so  be  that  he  need  the  information,  that  she  who 
in  that  worn  attire  bends  over  her  task  is  Polly  Fagan,  and 
thai  Monsieur  Joseph  is  no  other  than  our  old  acquaintance 
Joe  Raper ! 

De  Gabriac  had  married  Polly  secretly,  Joe  Raper  alone 
being  admitted  to  their  confidence.  For  months  long  they 
had  watched  for  some  favorable  opportunity  of  breaking  the 
event  to  the  old  man ;  and  at  last,  worn  out  by  care  and 
anxiety,  Polly  could  refrain  no  longer,  but  made  the  avowal 
herself,  and,  in  a  few  brief  words,  told  her  fault  and  her 
sorrow. 

The  Grinder  heard  her  with  the  stern  impassiveness  that 
he  ever  could  summon  in  any  dread  emergency.  He  had 
that  species  of  courage  that  can  surmount  every  peril,  only 
let  its  full  extent  be  kuown ;  and  although  it  was  true  that 
the  announcement  of  the  loss  of  all  he  was  worth  in  the  world 
would  have  been  lighter  tidings  than  those  he  now  listened 
to,  he  heard  her  to  the  end  without  interruption.  There  was 
that  in  his  calm,  cold  face  which  smote  her  to  the  very  heart ; 
the  very  way  he  drew  back  his  hand,  as  she  tried  to  grasp 
it  in  her  own,  was  a  shock  to  her ;  and  ere  she  finished  her 
sad  story,  her  voice  was  broken,  and  her  lips  tremulous. 

Terrible  conflict  was  it  between  father  and  child !  between 
two  natures  each  proud  as  the  other,  — each  bold,  stern,  and 
unforgiving ! 

"  The  date  of  this  event?"  asked  he,  as  she  concluded. 

"  The  ninth  of  October." 

"  Where?" 

"  At  a  chapel  in  Cullenswood  Avenue." 

"  Who  witnessed  it?  " 

"  Raper." 

"  Any  other?" 

"  No  other." 

"  The  ninth  of  October  fell  on  a  Tuesday ;  it  was  then,  or 
the  day  after,  that  I  gave  you  a  diamond  clasp,  a  present?" 

"  It  was." 

"  Who  performed  this  ceremony?" 

>k  A  priest,  but  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  tell  his  name,  —  at 
least,  without  the  assurance  of  your  forgiveness." 

16 


242  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

"  Then  do  not  tell  it !     The  man  is  still  living?  " 

"  I  believe  so." 

"  And  your  husband,  — where  is  he?  " 

"In  the  city.  He  is  waiting  but  to  be  received  by  you 
ere  he  return  to  France  to  arrange  his  affairs  in  that 
country." 

"He  need  not  long  delay  his  departure,  then:  tell 
him  so." 

"  You  forgive  us,  then?"  cried  she,  almost  bursting  with 
gratitude. 

"  No!  — never!  " 

"  Not  forgive  us !  —  not  acknowledge  us  !  " 

"Never!  never!"  reiterated  he,  with  a  thick  utterance 
that  sounded  like  the  very  concentration  of  passion.  The 
words  seemed  to  have  a  spell  in  them  to  conjure  up  a  feeling 
in  her  who  heard,  as  deeply  powerful  as  in  him  who  spoke 
them. 

' l  Am  I  no  longer  your  daughter,  sir  ?  "  asked  she,  rising 
and  drawing  herself  to  her  full  height  before  him. 

"  You  are  a  Countess,  madam,"  said  he,  with  a  scornful 
irony;  "lam  but  an  humble  man,  of  obscure  station  and 
low  habits.     I  know  nothing  of  nobility,  nor  of  its  ways." 

"  I  ask  again,  do  you  disown  me?"  said  she,  with  a  voice 
as  calm  and  collected  as  his  own. 

"For  ever  and  ever,"  said  he,  waving  his  hand,  as 
though  the  gesture  was  to  be  one  of  adieu.  "  You  are  mine 
no  longer,  —  you  had  ceased  to  be  so  ere  I  knew  it.  Go  to 
your  home,  if  you  have  one ;  here,  you  are  but  an  intruder, 
—  unasked,  unwished  for  !  " 

"Bitter  words  to  part  with!  but  hear  me,  sir.  He  who 
has  joined  his  lot  to  mine  should  not  pay  the  penalty  of  my 
fault.  Against  him  you  can  bear  no  malice;  he  at  least 
does  not  merit  the  reproach  you  have  cast  on  me.  Will  you 
see  him,  — may  he  speak  with  you?  " 

"  Whenever  he  pleases,  —  provided  it  be  but  once.  I  will 
not  be  importuned." 

"  You  will  bear  in  mind,  sir,  that  he  is  a  man  of  birth  and 

station,  and  that  to  his  ears  words  of  insult  are  a  stranger." 

"  I  will  treat  him  with  all  the  deference  I  owe  to  his  rank, 

and  to  the  part  he  has  performed   towards   myself,"  said 

Fagan,  slowly. 


THE   VILLAGE   OF   REICHENAU.  243 

"It  were,  perhaps,  better,  then,  that  you  should  not 
meet?" 

"  Tt  were,  perhaps,  better  so  !  " 

"  Good-bye,  sir.     I  have  no  more  to  say." 

"  Good-bye,  madam.  Tell  Raper  I  want  to  speak  to 
him,  as  you  pass  out." 

With  Raper  the  interview  was  briefer  still.  Fagan  dryly 
informed  his  old  follower  that  he  no  longer  needed  his 
services.  And  although  Joe  heard  the  words  as  a  criminal 
might  have  listened  to  those  of  his  last  senteuce,  he  never 
uttered  a  syllable.  Fagan  was  brief,  though  bitter.  He 
reproached  him  with  the  long  years  he  had  sheltered  him 
beneath  his  roof,  and  reviled  him  for  ingratitude  !  He  spoke 
of  him  as  one  who  had  eaten  the  bread  of  idleness,  and  repaid 
an  existence  of  ease  by  treachery.  Once,  and  only  once, 
did  the  insulting  language  he  lavished  on  him  seem  to  sting 
him  beyond  further  endurance.     It  was  when  Fagan  said  : 

"You  think  me  in  your  power,  sir;  you  fancy  that  amid 
that  mass  of  rubbish  and  confusion  my  affairs  have  been 
involved  in,  that  you  alone  can  be  the  guide.  But  I  tell  you 
here  now  that  were  it  even  so,  I  'd  rather  heap  them  on  the 
fire,  and  stand  forth  a  beggar  to  the  world,  than  harbor 
within  my  doors  a  man  like  you !  " 

The  struggle  that  it  cost  poor  Joe  to  hear  this,  without 
reply,  was  great ;  but  a  sense  of  the  deference  that  through- 
out a  long  life  he  had  ever  rendered  to  his  master,  over- 
powered all  considerations  of  self.  He  indeed  felt  that  he 
had  been  wronged  ;  he  knew  all  the  injustice  of  the  reproach  ; 
but  he  also  bethought  him  of  the  many  years  in  which  that 
house  had  been  his  home,  and  that  hearth  his  own.  He  was 
not  one  to  remember  what  he  had  rendered  in  return,  nor 
think  of  the  long  existence  of  toil  by  which  he  had  earned 
his  livelihood.  The  settled  humility  which  was  the  basis  of 
his  whole  character  made  him  esteem  himself  as  one  whose 
station  excluded  all  thought  of  those  relations  that  exist 
between  members  of  the  same  community;  and  that  his 
conduct  should  be  arraigned,  argued  that  his  acts  possessed 
a  degree  of  importance  he  had  never  attributed  to  them. 

He  heard  Fagan,  therefore,  throughout,  without  an}'  effort 
at  reply ;  and,  heaving  a  faint  sigh,  withdrew. 


244  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

I  have  no  means  of  knowing  how  Gabriac  behaved  in  this 
trying  emergency.  All  that  I  have  heard  came  from  Raper  ; 
and  poor  Joe  was  neither  shrewd  in  his  observation  of  char- 
acter, nor  quick  to  appreciate  motives.  The  Count  decided 
at  once  on  a  return  to  the  Continent :  perhaps  he  thought 
there  might  arise  some  chance  of  reconciliation  with  the 
father  if  Polly,  for  a  time,  at  least,  were  withdrawn  from  his 
sight;  perhaps,  too,  some  hope  there  might  be  of  arrange- 
ment of  his  own  affairs.  Raper  was  also  to  accompany 
them,  in  the  prospect  of  finding  some  clerkship  in  an  office, 
or  some  employment  in  a  mercantile  house  abroad,  where  his 
knowledge  of  languages  might  be  available.  At  all  events, 
his  protection  and  companionship  would  be  useful  to  Polly, 
whenever  the  Count  would  be  compelled  to  absent  himself 
from  home ;  and,  lastly,  the  funds  for  the  enterprise  were 
all  supplied  by  Joe,  who  contributed  something  under  four 
hundred  pounds,  —  the  savings  of  a  whole  life  of  labor ! 

As  for  Polly,  to  the  humblest  ornament  she  had  ever 
worn,  to  the  meanest  gift  she  had  received  in  childhood, 
—  she  left  all  behind  her.  Her  jewels  were  worth  some 
thousands,  —  her  wardrobe  was  even  splendid ;  but  she 
went  forth  without  a  gem,  and  with  barely  what  sufficed 
her  in  dress. 

"And  what  is  this?"  said  the  Count,  half  disdainfully 
touching  with  his  foot  what  seemed  to  be  an  oblong  basket 
of  colored  straw. 

"Poor  Josephine's  baby!"  said  Polly,  with  eyes  swim- 
ming in  tears. 

"And  is  he,  is  she, — whichever  it  be, — to  form  one  of 
the  party?"  asked  he,  angrily. 

"  Can  you  ask  it,  Emile?  You  remember  the  last  words 
she  ever  spoke  to  us  on  the  morning  we  left  the  Killeries." 

"That  unlucky  journey!"  muttered  he;  but  fortunately 
not  loud  enough  for  her  to  catch  the  words. 

"  The  little  fellow  will  soon  be  able  to  walk,  and  to  mutter 
some  words ;  he  will  be  company  for  me  when  y^u  are 
away !  "  said  she,  sorrowfully. 

"  L'Ami  Joseph  ought  to  fill  up  that  void,"  said  De 
Gabriac,  laughing.  "I  think  myself  the  very  paragon  of 
husbands  to  accede  to  the  arrangement !  " 


OF 

*£dUFORN^ 

THE  VILLAGE   OF   RE1CHENAU.  245 

Strange  words  were  these  for  her  to  hear,  —  nor,  indeed, 
could  she  penetrate  then-  meaning ;  but  Polly's  cares  at  that 
moment  gave  little  time  for  thought,  for  every  detail  of  prep- 
aration was  left  to  her.  Raper,  it  is  true,  did  his  utmost  to 
aid  her ;  but  already  De  Gabriac  had  assumed  a  manner  of 
superiority  and  command  towards  Joe  which  greatly  embar- 
rassed Polly,  and  compelled  her  to  use  every  means  of 
keeping  them  apart. 

Thus  were  they  started  on  the  sea  of  life :  does  it  need 
much  foresight  to  predict  the  voyage? 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

A    MOUNTAIN    ADVENTURE. 

Why  do  we  all  refer  to  the  period  of  boyhood  as  one  of 
happiness?  It  is  not  that  it  had  not  its  own  sorrows,  nor 
that  they  were  really  so  light,  —  it  is  simply  because  it  was 
the  season  of  hope.  In  after-life,  as  deception  after  decep- 
tion has  checked  us,  when  disappointment  has  dulled  ex- 
pectancy, we  become  more  practical,  less  dreamy,  and,  alas ! 
less  happy.  The  possible  and  the  probable  of  youth  are 
not  the  possible  and  the  probable  of  manhood,  still  less 
those  of  riper  age.  The  realms  of  boyish  fancy  are  as  wide 
as  the  great  ocean ;  and  we  revel  in  them  in  all  the  pleni- 
tude of  unrestricted  power.  There  is  not  a  budding  effort 
of  intellect  that  we  do  not  magnify  to  ourselves  as  the 
origin  of  future  distinction.  We  exalt  our  feats  of  strength 
and  courage  into  deeds  of  heroic  daring ;  and  we  fancy  that 
the  little  struggles  and  crosses  we  meet  with  are  like  the 
great  trials  and  reverses  of  after-life ;  and  in  our  pride  of 
success,  we  deem  ourselves  conquerors.  Oh  for  one  day, 
for  even  one  short  hour,  of  that  time  of  glorious  delusions ! 
Oh  that  I  could  once  more  look  out  upon  the  world  as 
one  gazes  at  a  sunset  at  sea,  wondering  what  beauteous 
lands  lie  afar  off  in  the  distance,  and  imagining  the  time 
when  we  should  be  journeying  towards  them,  buoyant, 
high-hearted,  hopeful !  Who  has  ever  achieved  any  suc- 
cess that  equalled  his  boyish  ambitions?  Who  has  ever 
been  as  great  or  as  good  as  his  early  visions  have  pictured 
him? 

I  have  already  told  my  reader  that  my  youth  was  not 
passed  in  affluence.  Our  means  were  limited  to  the  very 
merest  requirements  of  existence ;  our  food  and  our  cloth- 
ing were  humble  as  our  dwelling ;  and  I  believe  that  many 


A   MOUNTAIN   ADVENTURE.  247 

a  sore  privation  was  needed  to  escape  the  calamity  of  debt. 
Of  all  these  hardships  I  knew  nothing  at  the  time ;  my  ex- 
perience pointed  out  none  who  seemed  to  possess  an  existence 
happy  as  my  own.  I  had  all  that  unvarying  affection  and 
devoted  love  could  bestow.  My  little  turret  in  winter,  the 
fields  and  the  mountains  in  summer,  made  up  a  glorious 
world,  full  of  interest ;  and  the  days  seemed  never  long 
enough  for  all  my  plans  of  pleasure. 

I  had  no  companions  of  my  own  age,  nor  did  I  feel  the 
want  of  them  ;  for  when  my  school  hours  were  over  I  was 
free  to  follow  the  caprices  of  my  own  fancy.  There  was  in 
my  isolation  a  sort  of  independence  that  I  gloried  in.  To 
be  alone  with  my  own  day-dreams  —  my  own  ambitious 
hopes  —  my  own  high-soaring  thoughts  —  was  an  ecstasy  of 
delight  that  I  would  not  have  exchanged  for  any  companion- 
ship. The  very  indulgence  of  these  humors  soon  rendered 
me  unsuited  for  association  with  others,  whose  ideas  and 
habits  appeared  to  me  to  be  all  vain,  and  trifling,  and  con- 
temptible. The  books  of  travel  and  discovery  which  I  loved 
to  read,  had  filled  my  mind  with  those  stories  of  adventure 
which  attend  the  explorer  of  unknown  lands,  —  the  wonders 
of  scenery,  and  the  strange  pictures  of  life  and  people. 
There  was  in  the  career  itself  that  blending  of  heroism  and 
philanthropy,  that  mingled  courage  and  humanity,  which  ap- 
pealed to  my  heart  by  its  very  strongest  sympathies ;  and 
I  felt  for  these  noble  and  devoted  adventurers  not  less 
admiration  than  love.  All  my  solitary  rambles  through  the 
wild  valleys  of  the  neighborhood,  all  my  lonely  walks  over 
mountains,  were  in  imitation  of  these  wanderers,  whose 
hardships  I  envied,  and  whose  perils  I  longed  to  share. 
Not  a  rugged  crag  nor  snow-capped  summit  that  I  did  not 
name  after  some  far-away  land ;  and  every  brook  and 
rippling  stream  became  to  me  the  Nile,  the  Euphrates,  or 
the  Ganges.  The  desolate  character  of  the  scenery  amidsl 
which  we  lived,  the  wide  tracts  of  uninhabited  country, 
favored  these  illusions;  and  for  whole  days  long  not  an 
incidenl  would  occur  to  break  the  spell  which  fancy  had 
thrown   around  me. 

My  kind  mother  —  for  so  Polly  always  taught  me  to  call 
her  —  seemed  to  take  delight  in  favoring  these  self-delusions 
of  mine,  and  fell  readily  into  all  my  caprices  about  locality. 


248  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

She  made  ine,  too,  with  her  own  hands,  a  little  knapsack  to 
wear  ;  bought  me  an  iron-shod  staff  such  as  Alpine  travellers 
carry  ;  and  made  me  keep  a  kind  of  journal  of  these  wander- 
ings, noting  down  all  my  accidents  and  adventures,  and  re- 
cording even  the  feelings  which  beset  me  when  afar  off  and 
alone  in  the  mountains.  So  intent  did  I  become  at  last  on 
these  imaginings  that  the  actual  life  of  school  and  its  duties 
grew  to  seem  visionary  and  unreal,  and  my  true  existence  to 
be  that  when  wandering  through  the  lonely  valleys  of  the 
Alps,  or  sitting  in  solitude  in  some  far-away  gorge  of  the 
mountains. 

As  I  grew  older  I  pushed  my  journeys  further,  and  carried 
my  explorings  to  the  very  foot  of  the  Splugen,  through  that 
dreariest  of  all  mountain  passes,  the  "  Verlohrnes  Loch." 
The  savage  grandeur  of  this  desolate  spot,  its  gloom,  its 
solitude,  its  utter  desertion,  its  almost  uninhabitable  char- 
acter, gave  it  a  peculiar  attraction  in  my  eyes,  for  there 
nothing  ever  occurred  to  dispel  the  colorings  of  my  imagina- 
tion. There  I  revelled  at  will  amidst  the  wildest  flights  of 
my  fancy.  An  old  castle,  one  of  the  many  feudal  remains 
of  this  tract  of  country,  stood  upon  a  lone  crag  to  the  centre 
of  the  valley.  It  seemed  as  if  Nature  herself  had  destined 
the  rock  for  such  a  structure,  for  while  there  was  barely 
space  sufficient  at  the  top,  the  approach  lay  by  a  zig-zag 
path,  rugged  and  dangerous,  cut  in  the  solid  granite.  When 
I  first  saw  this  rude  old  tower,  the  melting  snows  of  early 
summer  had  flooded  a  small  rivulet  at  the  base  of  the  crag, 
and  the  stream,  being  divided  in  its  course  against  the  rock, 
swept  along  on  either  side,  leaving  the  castle,  as  it  were, 
on  an  island. 

I  had  long  resolved  to  scale  this  cliff,  the  view  from  the 
summit  of  which  I  knew  would  be  magnificent,  extending 
for  miles  both  up  and  down  the  valley;  and  at  last,  took 
advantage  of  my  first  holiday  from  school  to  accomplish  my 
purpose.  The  Forlorn  Glen,  as  the  translation  of  the  name 
would  imply,  lay  about  thirteen  miles  away  by  taking  the 
mountain  paths,  though  its  distance  by  road  was  more  than 
double,  and  to  go  and  return  in  the  same  day  required  an 
early  start.  I  set  out  before  daybreak,  having  packed  my 
knapsack  with  food  to  last  me  while  I  should  be  away. 

I  never  remember  to  have  felt  a  greater  degree  of  exhilara- 


A   MOUNTAIN   ADVENTURE.  249 

tiou  than  as  I  set  forth  that  morning.  It  was  in  the  month  of 
June,  that  season  of  all  others  the  most  beautiful  in  Alpine 
scenery,  since  it  combines  all  the  charms  of  spring  with  the 
balmy  air  and  more  genial  atmosphere  of  summer.  The 
cherry-trees  were  all  in  blossom  in  the  glens,  and  the  rich 
pink  of  the  apricot  peeped  out  from  many  a  little  grove. 
I  went  along,  happy  and  light-hearted,  passing  many  a  spot 
to  which  I  had  given  some  name  of  a  far-away  scene,  and 
recognizing  places  which  once  had  been  to  me  the  utmost 
limits  of  my  wanderings.  So,  thought  I,  shall  it  be  in 
after-life,  and  we  can  look  back  upon  efforts  that  we  once 
deemed  stupendous,  and  regard  them  as  mere  tiny  steps  in 
the  great  steep  we  are  climbing. 

I  breakfasted  at  a  little  waterfall  in  the  midst  of  the  wild- 
est mountain,  not  a  sound  save  the  plashing  waters  to  break 
the  stillness ;  the  birds  gathered  round  me  for  the  crumbs 
of  my  meal,  and  ate  them  within  a  few  paces  of  where  I  sat. 
There  was  something  that  I  felt  as  indescribably  touching, 
in  the  trustfulness  of  the  humbler  creation,  in  scenes  de- 
serted and  forsaken  of  men ;  and  musing  on  the  theme,  I 
arose  and  pursued  my  way. 

When  I  reached  the  Verlohrnes  Loch  it  was  still  early, 
and  I  was  delighted  to  find  that  the  stream  at  the  foot  of 
the  castle  rock  was  dwindled  down  to  a  mere  rivulet,  and 
fordable  with  ease.  I  crossed,  and  at  once  began  the  ascent 
of  the  crag.  Before  I  had  spent  half  an  hour  at  my  task, 
however,  I  found  that  its  difficulties  were  far  greater  than  I 
had  anticipated.  The  path  was  often  interrupted  by  masses 
of  fallen  rock,  and  frequently,  from  long  disuse,  difficult  to 
hit  upon  when  once  lost.  Brambles  and  prickly  pears,  too, 
formed  terrible  obstacles  at  some  places,  while  at  others  the 
rocks  were  rendered  slippery  by  dripping  water,  and  the 
danger  of  a  false  step  was  very  great.  In  no  wise  dis- 
couraged, I  struggled  on;  but  to  my  astonishment  I  could 
perceive  that  it  was  wearing  nigh  to  noon  before  I  had 
accomplished  more  than  half  the  ascent.  I  had  therefore 
to  take  counsel  with  myself  whether  I  should  abandon  my 
enterprise  at  once,  or  resolve  to  pass  the  night  on  the  crag, 
for  I  readily  saw  that  before  I  could  reach  the  level  plain 
again  it  would  be  too  late  to  resume   my  homeward    road 


250  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

over  the  mountain,  many  parts  of  which  required  daylight 
to  traverse.  Although  I  had  never  passed  a  night  away 
from  home,  I  had  often  told  my  mother  that  I  should  prob- 
ably be  led  to  do  so,  and  that  she  should  not  feel  any  alarm 
at  my  absence  ;  and  she,  who  well  knew  the  honest  character 
of  the  mountaineers,  also  knew  that  I  was  known  to  them 
for  miles  far  around.  My  resolve  was  at  length  taken  to 
pass  the  night  in  the  shelter  of  the  old  castle,  and  take  the 
following  morning  for  my  return. 

As  the  day  wore  on,  the  heat  grew  more  and  more  oppres- 
sive ;  occasional  gusts  of  wind  would  sweep  past,  followed 
by  a  dead,  unbroken  stillness,  in  which  not  a  leaf  moved. 
It  seemed  as  though  mysterious  spirits  of  the  elemental 
world  were  conversing  together  in  this  lone  region,  and  the 
thought  impressed  me  more  powerfully  as  at  intervals  a  low, 
half -subdued  murmuring  seemed  to  rise  from  the  deep  glens 
around  me.  At  first  I  deemed  they  were  self-delusions  ;  but 
as  I  listened  I  could  distinctly  trace  the  sounds  as  they  rose 
and  fell,  swelling  now  to  a  deep  rolling  noise,  and  then 
dying  away  in  soft  fading  cadences. 

My  mind  was  stored  with  stories  of  supernatural  interest, 
and  if  I  did  not  implicitly  believe  the  existence  of  such 
agencies,  yet  I  cannot  affirm  that  I  altogether  rejected  them. 
I  was  in  that  state  in  which,  while  reason  is  unconvinced, 
the  imagination  is  still  impressed,  and  fears  and  terrors  hold 
sway,  when  the  very  causes  of  them  were  stoutly  denied 
reality.  One  of  the  commonest  of  all  the  superstitions  of 
mountain  regions  is  the  belief  in  a  certain  genius  who  in- 
variably resists  the  intrusion  of  mortals  within  the  precincts 
of  his  realm.  The  terrible  tales  of  his  vengeance  form  the 
subject  of  Alpine  horrors,  and  the  dreadful  miseries  of  those 
who  have  incurred  his  displeasure  point  the  moral  of  many 
a  story,  and  "the  Kobold  of  the  Lost  Glen"  held  a  proud 
pre-eminence  among  such  narratives.  The  heat,  as  I  have 
said,  grew  oppressive ;  it  became  at  last  almost  stifling,  for 
the  clouds  descended  near  the  earth,  and  the  atmosphere 
became  dense  and  suffocating.  A  few  heavy  drops  of  rain 
then  fell,  pattering  slowly  and  lazily  on  the  leaves ;  and 
then,  as  if  at  the  word  of  some  dread  command,  the  thunder 
rolled  forth  in  one  long,  loud,  continuous  peal  that  seemed 


A   MOUNTAIN  ADVENTURE.  251 

to  shake  the  very  mountains.  Crash  after  crash  followed, 
till  the  very  rocks  seemed  splitting  with  the  loud  artillery, 
while  through  the  darkness  of  the  murky  air  great  sheets  of 
yellow  lightning  gleamed,  and  long  chains  of  the  bright 
element  zig-zagged  through  the  sky ;  the  rain,  too,  began 
to  fall  in  torrents,  and  almost  at  once  the  mountain  streams 
swelled  and  bounded  in  foamy  cataracts  from  cliff  and  preci- 
pice. The  din  was  deafening  ;  and  the  loud  crashing  thunder 
with  the  hissing  rain,  the  rushing  rivers,  and  the  dense  shak- 
ing forests  made  up  a  grand  and  awful  chorus.  For  a  while 
I  found  a  shelter  beneath  the  thick  foliage  of  the  hollies,  but 
the  sweeping  wind  at  last  rent  this  frail  sanctuary  in  twain, 
and  in  a  moment  I  was  drenched  thoroughly. 

Although  still  early  in  the  afternoon,  a  premature  night 
seemed  to  have  set  in,  for  the  air  grew  darker  and  darker, 
till  at  length  the  mountains  at  either  side  of  the  glen  were 
lust  to  sight,  and  a  dense  watery  vapor  surrounded  the  crag 
on  which  I  stood.  My  position  was  not  without  peril,  since 
if  the  waters  did  not  abate  at  the  end  of  some  hours,  I 
should  be  left  to  starve  on  the  rock.  This  danger  at  once 
occurred  to  me,  and  my  mind  was  already  overcome  by 
gloomy  forebodings.  One  thing  was,  however,  certain,  — 
I  must  endeavor  to  reach  the  castle  before  nightfall;  for  to 
pass  the  dark  hours  where  I  was  would  be  impossible.  The 
difliculty  of  the  ascent  was  now  increased  fourfold ;  the 
fooling  was  less  secure  on  the  rocks,  and  dashing  torrents 
tore  past  with  a  force  that  strength  like  mine  could  never 
have  combated.  It  is  with  pride  that  I  remember  to  have 
looked  all  those  perils  boldly  in  the  face ;  it  is,  I  say,  a 
proud  thought  to  me,  even  now,  that  as  a  mere  boy  I  could 
meet  danger  boldly  and  undauntedly.  More  than  once, 
indeed,  the  fatal  terrors  of  my  position  stood  arrayed  before 
me,  and  I  thought  that  I  had  seen  my  dear  home  and  my 
kind  mother  for  the  last  time;  I  could  even  speculate  upon 
poor  Raper's  affliction  when  he  came  to  hear  of  my  calamity- 
With  thoughts  like  these  I  wended  my  way  along,  ever 
upwards  and  ever  more  steep  and  difficult.  Although  the 
storm  had  spent  much  of  its  fury,  the  rain  continued  to  fall 
in  torrents,  and  the  roar  of  the  swollen  streams  almost 
equalled  the  deafening  clamor  of  the  thunder.     The  sudden 


252  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

transition  from  unbroken  silence  to  the  crash  and  tumult  of 
falling  waters  is  one  of  the  most  striking  features  of  Alpine 
scenery,  and  suggests,  even  at  moments  of  the  greatest 
calm  and  quiet,  a  sense  of  foreboding  peril.  The  sudden 
change  of  temperature,  too,  from  intense  heat  to  an  almost 
biting  cold,  induces  terrific  storms  of  wind,  almost  torna- 
does, by  whose  violence  great  trees  are  torn  up  by  the  roots, 
and  vast  rocks  hurled  down  from  crag  and  precipice.  In 
turning  the  angle  of  a  cliff,  I  came  suddenly  upon  one  of 
these  gusts,  which  carried  me  completely  off  my  legs,  and 
swept  me  into  a  low  copse  of  brushwood,  stunned  and 
senseless.  I  must  have  remained  a  considerable  time  un- 
conscious, for  when  I  came  to  myself  the  stars  were  shining 
in  the  dark  blue  sky  of  night,  and  the  air  calm,  serene,  and 
summer-like.  It  was  with  difficulty  I  could  remember  where 
I  was,  and  by  what  chances  I  had  come  there ;  and  it  was 
indeed  with  a  sinking  heart  that  I  arose,  not  knowing 
whither  to  turn  my  steps,  nor  whether  my  chance  of  safety 
lay  above  or  below  me. 

I  was  sorely  bruised  besides,  and  one  of  my  arms  severely 
injured  by  my  fall,  as  I  discovered  in  attempting  to  use  my 
staff.  It  was  at  that  moment,  thoughts  of  my  home  came 
full  and  forcibly  before  me ;  the  little  chamber  where  I  used 
to  sit  for  hours  in  happy  occupation ;  uvy  seat  beside  the 
hearth ;  my  place  at  my  mother's  wheel,  for  she  used  to  spio 
during  the  hazy  days  of  winter ;  and,  in  my  despair,  I  burst 
into  a  flood  of  tears.  The  excess  of  grief  passed  off,  and 
there  now  succeeded  a  dogged  resolve  to  accomplish  my  first 
purpose,  and  I  again  set  out  for  the  summit. 

I  had  not  proceeded  far,  when  on  looking  upward  towards 
the  sky  I  saw,  or  thought  I  saw,  a  light  twinkling  through 
the  trees  above  me.  The  foliage  was  dense  and  thick,  and 
grew  around  the  base  of  the  rock  which  formed  the  imme- 
diate foundation  of  the  castle,  so  that  it  was  only  at  certain 
spots  a  light,  if  such  there  was,  could  be  visible.  Onward  I 
pushed  now,  with  a  new  impulse  given  by  hope ;  and  to  my 
inexpressible  joy,  as  I  rounded  the  corner  of  a  crag,  I  came 
full  in  sight  of  the  old  tower,  and  saw,  from  one  of  the  nar- 
row windows,  the  sparkle  of  a  bright  light  that,  streaming 
forth,  formed  a  long  line  upon  the  grass. 


A   MOUNTAIN   ADVENTURE.  253 

The  window  was  fully  twenty  feet  from  the  ground,  nor 
was  the  entrance  door  more  than  a  few  feet  lower,  —  being 
one  of  those  fastnesses  to  which  access  was  had  by  a  ladder, 
drawn  up  for  safety  after  entering.  Many  of  these  ruined 
castles  in  the  valley  of  the  Reichenau  were,  I  knew,  occupied 
by  the  shepherds ;  some  indeed  had  been  converted  into 
refuge-houses  for  lost  travellers,  and  supplied  by  the  gov- 
ernment of  the  canton  with  some  few  appliances  of  succor. 
The  situation  of  this  one,  however,  refuted  all  such  possi- 
bility, since  its  very  difficulty  of  approach  would  have  ren- 
dered it  unavailable  for  either  purpose.  As  I  stood  on  the 
little  level  tableland  in  front  of  the  old  ruin,  and  gazed 
upwards  at  the  narrow  window  from  which  gleamed  the 
light,  all  my  former  superstitious  terrors  returned,  and  I  felt 
that  cold  shrinking  of  the  heart  that  comes  of  a  danger 
undefined  and  incomprehensible ;  nor  am  I  certain  that  I 
would  not  rather  have  looked  upon  the  ruin  dark  and  deso- 
late, than  with  that  yellow  streak  that  told  of  some  inhabitant 
within. 

The  northern  side  of  the  Alpine  ranges  have  few,  if  any, 
traditions  of  robbers.  The  horrors  with  which  they  are 
peopled  are  all  those  of  an  immaterial  world,  so  that  my 
mind  ranged  over  the  tales  of  wood-demons,  Kobolds,  and 
mountain  imps,  without  one  single  thought  of  the  perils  of 
banditti ;  nor  was  I  altogether  without  a  strong  prompting 
of  eager  curiosity  to  know  what  precise  shape  and  semblance 
these  strange  creatures  wore.  Thus  impelled,  I  set  about 
examining  the  spot,  and  seeing  in  what  way  I  might  be  able 
to  approach  the  window.  The  trees  on  either  side  were  too 
low,  and  the  ivy  which  grew  against  the  ruined  wall  itself 
offered  the  only  means  of  ascent.  I  was  an  expert  climber, 
and  well  knew  that,  though  the  ivy  will  often  afford  good 
and  safe  footing,  it  will  always  give  way  beneath  the  grasp 
of  the  hand,  and  that  the  stones  of  the  wall  would  afford  me 
the  only  security.  In  this  wise  it  was,  therefore,  I  began 
the  ascent,  and,  with  slow  and  careful  steps,  I  arrived  at 
last  within  a  few  feet  of  the  window-sill.  My  impatience  at 
this  moment  overcame  all  my  prudence,  and,  with  an  eager 
spring,  I  tried  to  catch  the  stone.  I  missed  it,  and  grasping 
the  ivy  in  my  despair,  the  branches  gave  way,  and,  after  a 


254  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

brief  struggle,  and  with  a  loud  cry  of  terror,  I  fell  backwards 
to  the  ground. 

The  stars  seemed  to  flit  to  and  fro  above  rue ;  trees,  moun- 
tains, and  rocks  seemed  to  heave  in  mad  commotion  around  ; 
my  brain  was  filled  with  the  wildest  images  of  peril  and 
suffering ;  and  then  came  blank  unconsciousness. 

I  was  sitting  rather  than  lying  on  a  low  pallet-bed 
stretched  against  the  wall ;  in  front  of  me  a  window  cur- 
tained with  a  much-worn  horseman's  cloak ;  and  around  me 
in  the  room,  which  was  lofty  and  spacious,  were  a  few  rudely 
fashioned  articles  of  furniture,  and  two  or  three  utensils  for 
cooking,  —  all  of  the  very  meanest  kind.  My  arm  was  bound 
with  a  bandage  where  I  had  been  bled,  and  my  great  debility, 
and  a  sense  of  half-incoherence  in  all  my  thoughts,  told  of 
severe  illness.  At  a  table  beneath  the  window,  and  bent 
over  it  as  if  writing,  sat  a  tall,  very  old  man,  in  a  coarse 
woollen  blouse  of  red-brown  stuff,  with  a  cap  of  the  same 
color  and  material ;  sandals,  fastened  round  the  ankles  with 
leather  thongs,  formed  the  protection  of  his  feet ;  these,  and 
a  belt  with  a  gourd  for  carrying  water  attached  to  it,  made 
up  his  whole  costume. 

His  face,  when  he  seemed  to  look  towards  me,  was  harshly 
lined  and  severe ;  the  lower  jaw  projected  greatly,  and  the 
character  of  the  whole  expression  was  cold  and  stern :  but 
the  head  was  lofty  and  capacious,  and  indicated  consider- 
able powers  of  thought  and  reflection. 

There  was  over  me  a  sense  of  weakness  so  oppressive  and 
so  overwhelming  that  though  I  saw  the  objects  I  have  here 
mentioned,  and  gazed  on  them  for  hours  long,  yet  I  made  no 
effort  to  speak,  nor  ask  where  I  was,  nor  to  whom  I  was 
indebted  for  shelter  and  succor.  This  apathy  —  for  it  was, 
indeed,  such  —  held  me  entranced,  even  when  the  old  man 
would  approach  the  bed  to  feel  my  pulse,  to  bathe  my 
temples  with  water,  or  wet  my  lips  with  a  drink.  After 
these  visits  he  would  take  his  staff  from  the  corner,  and  leave 
the  room,  to  which  he  frequently  did  not  return  for  many 
hours.  Thus  went  day  after  day,  monotony  over  every- 
thing, till  my  head  ached  with  very  weariness,  as  the  lazy 
hours  went  by.    Where  was  I?    Was  this  a  state  of  suffering 


A   MOUNTAIN   ADVENTURE.  255 

malady?  Or  was  it  imprisonment?  Why  was  I  thus?  How 
long  should  I  still  continue  so?  Such  were  the  puzzling 
questions  which  would  present  themselves  before  me,  — 
never  to  be  solved  —  never  replied  to. 

In  my  dreamy  debility,  when  my  faculties  tottered  like 
wearied  limbs,  I  often  wondered  if  I  might  not  have  entered 
upon  some  new  kind  of  existence,  in  which  long  years  of 
such  wakeful  sorrow  should  be  gone  through  ;  and  in  a  mood 
like  this  wras  it  that  I  lay  one  day  all  alone,  when  from  the 
open  window  there  came  the  thrilling  notes  of  a  blackbird 
which  sat  on  a  tree  close  by.  Not  even  the  kindest  words 
of  a  fellow-creature  could  have  filled  my  heart  with  more 
ecstasy  than  those  sounds  reminding  me  of  my  once  happy 
life,  my  home,  the  little  garden  of  the  chateau,  and  its 
tangled  alleys  of  fruit-trees  and  flowering  shrubs.  I  strug- 
gled to  arise  from  my  bed,  and  after  some  efforts  I  succeeded, 
and  with  weak  step  and  trembling  limbs  I  reached  the  win- 
dow and  looked  out. 

Sudden  as  the  change  from  blackest  night  to  the  light 
of  breaking  day  was  the  effect  that  came  over  me  as  I 
gazed  down  the  valley,  and  recognized  each  well-known 
crag,  and  cliff,  and  mountain  peak  of  the  Verlohrnes  Loch. 
At  once  now  came  back  all  memory  of  my  adventure  and  the 
night  of  the  storm  ;  and  at  once  I  saw  that  I  was  standing  at 
the  window  of  that  old  ruin  which  had  been  the  goal  of  my 
wandering. 

How  I  longed  to  learn  what  interval  of  time  had  gone 
over !  I  tried  to  calculate  it  by  remembering  that  it  was 
early  summer  when  I  came,  but  still  the  trees  wore  no  tokens 
of  coming  autumn.  They  were  bright  in  foliage,  and  leafy, 
mid  the  streams  that  traversed  the  valley  were  small  and 
tiny  rills  that  showed  no  touch  of  the  season  of  rains. 
From  these  observations  I  now  addressed  myself  to  an  in- 
spection of  the  interior.  AVell  used  as  I  had  been  to  habits 
of  poverty,  the  aspect  of  this  chamber  still  struck  me  with 
astonishment.  The  only  thing  like  food  was  some  Indian 
cor^  meal  carefully  covered  up  in  an  iron  vessel,  and  a  jar 
of  water;  of  clothing,  the  cloak  which  formed  the  window- 
curtain,  and  a  sheepskin  fashioned  into  a  rude  resemblance 
to  a  coat,  were  all  that  were  to  be  seen.     The  furniture  con- 


256  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

sisted  of  a  low  stool  and  a  single  chair,  the  trunk  of  an  elm- 
tree  representing  a  table.  On  this,  however,  an  attempt  at  a 
desk  had  been  made,  and  here,  to  my  astonishment,  were  now 
masses  of  papers  covered  with  figures  from  top  to  bottom,  — 
algebraic  signs  and  calculations  without  end  !  Not  one  word 
of  writing,  not  a  phrase  in  any  language,  was  to  be  met  with, 
but  page  after  page  of  these  mystical  sums,  which  seemed  to 
be  carried  on  from  one  sheet  of  paper  to  the  other.  How 
eagerly  I  sought  out  something  which  might  give  me  a  clew 
to  the  writer  of  these  figures,  but  in  vain  ;  I  pored  over  them 
long  and  carefully,  I  studied  their  form  and  their  size.  I 
tried  —  how  hopelessly  !  —  to  trace  out  some  purpose  in  the 
calculations,  and  to  divine  their  object  and  end ;  but  to  no 
avail !  I  had  heard  tell  of  persons  whose  intellects  had  been 
deranged  by  the  intense  study  of  a  difficult  problem,  the 
search  after  some  unattainable  object  in  science.  I  had  read 
wonderful  stories  of  long  years  of  toilsome  labor,  —  whole 
lives  passed  in  an  arduous  struggle,  till  death  had  at  last 
relieved  them  from  a  contest  with  the  "  impossible."  Could 
the  writer  of  these  be  the  victim  of  such  a  delusion  ?  Might 
he  have  sought  out  this  lone  spot,  to  live  apart  and  away 
from  all  the  distracting  influences  of  life,  and  to  devote  him- 
self to  some  such  task?  Had  his  mind  given  way  under 
this  pressure,  or  had  weakened  faculties  first  led  to  this 
career?  All  these  doubts  presented  themselves  to  me  in 
turns ;  and  again  I  turned  to  the  complex  pages  of  figures  to 
assist  my  conjectures. 

Alas  !  they  could  convey  nothing  to  me,  —  they  were  sym- 
bols only  of  so  much  toil  and  labor,  but  to  what  end  or 
object  I  could  not  guess.  As  I  sat  thus,  I  thought  that  I 
detected  an  error  in  one  of  the  calculations.  It  was  an 
algebraic  quantity  misstated ;  and,  on  looking  down,  I 
remarked  that  the  mistake  was  repeated  over  and  over, 
through  a  long  series  of  figures.  Any  proficiency  I  had 
ever  attained  at  school  was  in  matters  of  this  kind,  owing, 
as  I  did,  everything  to  Raper's  guidance  and  instruction  ; 
so  that  I  found  little  difficulty  in  ascertaining  that  this  error 
had  really  occurred,  and  in  all  likelihood  marred  all  the 
deductions  to  be  hoped  from  the  calculation. 

To  escape  from  the  dreamy  vacuity  of  my  late  life,  by  an 


A   MOUNTAIN   ADVENTURE.  257 

actual  occupation,  was  an  unspeakable  relief ;  and  I  felt  in 
the  pursuit  all  the  interest  of  an  adventurer.  There  was 
something  positive,  tangible,  real,  as  it  were,  here,  instead 
of  that  boundless  expanse  of  doubt  over  which  my  mind  had 
been  wandering,  and  I  addressed  myself  to  the  task  with 
eagerness.  The  error  first  discovered  had  led  to  others, 
and  I  diligently  traced  out  all  its  consequeuces ;  and  mak- 
ing the  fitting  corrections,  I  set  forth  the  results  on  a  slip 
of  paper  that  I  found,  happily,  clear  of  figures. 

So  tired  was  I  with  the  unaccustomed  exertion  that, 
when  I  had  done,  I  had  barely  reached  my  bed  ere  I  fell 
off  in  a  deep  and  heavy  sleep.  I  awoke  late  in  the  night, 
for  so  I  judged  it  from  the  starry  sky  which  I  could  see 
through  the  open  window.  The  old  man  sat  at  his  usual 
seat  beside  the  desk,  and,  with  his  head  supported  by  his 
hands,  seemed  to  study  the  pages  before  him.  The  flicker- 
ing lamplight  that  fell  upon  his  worn  features,  his  snow- 
white  beard,  his  wrinkled  forehead  and  thick-veined  hands, 
together  with  the  heavy  folds  of  the  cloak  which,  for  warmth, 
he  had  thrown  over  his  shoulders,  made  him  resemble  one  of 
those  alchemists  or  astrologers  we  see  in  Dutch  pictures.  I 
had  not  looked  long  at  him  till  I  saw  that  he  was  pondering 
over  the  corrections  I  had  made,  and  trying  to  remember  if 
they  were  by  his  own  hand.  At  last  he  turned  suddenly 
round,  and  fixed  his  eyes  on  me.  Mine  met  the  glance,  and 
thus  we  remained  for  some  seconds  staring  steadily  at  each 
other.  He  then  rose  slowly  like  one  fatigued  from  exertion, 
and,  with  the  paper  in  his  hand,  approached  the  bed.  How 
my  heart  beat  as  he  drew  nigh !  how  I  wondered  what  words 
he  would  utter,  what  accents  he  would  speak  in,  and  in 
what  mood  of  mind ! 

He  came  slowly  forward,  and,  seating  himself  beside  my 
bed  on  the  low  stool,  he  pointed  to  the  figures  on  the  paper, 
and  said,  in  the  Romaic  dialect  of  the  mountaineers,  the  one 
word,  "Yours?"  Though  the  word  was  uttered  in  the 
peasant  dialect,  the  tone  of  the  voice  was  not  that  of  a 
"  Bauer;"  and,  reassured  by  thinking  that  he  might  be  of 
superior  condition,   I  answered  him  at  once  in  French. 

"Is  that  your  native  tongue?"  said  he,  replying  to  me 
in  the  same  language. 

17 


258  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

I  shook  my  head  in  negative. 

"  You  are  a  German  boy,  then?  "  said  he. 

"  Nor  that  either,"  replied  I.     "  I  am  English." 

"English!  you  English,  and  in  this  place!"  cried  he, 
in  astonishment.  "From  what  part  of  England  do  you 
come  ?  "  said  he,  in  English,  which  he  spoke  as  a  native. 

"I  came  from  Ireland.  My  father  was  of  that  country. 
My  mother,  I  have  heard,  was  French." 

' '  You  have  heard !  So  that  you  do  not  know  it  of 
yourself?" 

"  I  never  remember  to  have  seen  either  of  them." 

"Your  name?" 

"  Carew  — Jasper  Carew." 

"  I  recollect  one  of  that  name,"  said  he,  pondering  for 
some  time.  "But  he  could  not  have  been  your  father. 
And  how  came  you  here  ?  " 

In  a  few  words  I  told  him  of  my  adventure,  and  in  doing 
so  revealed  such  habits  as  appeared  to  interest  him,  for  he 
questioned  me  closely  about  my  wanderings,  and  the  causes 
which  at  first  suggested  them.  In  turn  I  asked  and  learned 
from  him  that  several  weeks  had  elapsed  since  my  accident ; 
that  numerous  scouts  had  traversed  the  glen,  evidently  sent 
in  search  of  me,  but  that  for  reasons  which  regarded  him- 
self he  had  not  spoken  with,  nor,  indeed,  been  seen  by  any 
of  them,  but  still  had  written  a  few  lines  to  the  Cure  of 
Reicheuau  to  say  that  I  was  in  safety,  and  should  be  soon 
restored  to  my  friends.  This  he  had  conveyed  to  the  post 
by  night,  but  without  suffering  any  clew  to  escape  from 
whence  it  came. 

"  And  these  figures  are  yours?"  said  he,  referring  to  the 
paper. 

I  nodded,  and  he  went  on :  — 

"What  toilsome  nights,  boy,  had  I  been  spared  if  I  had 
but  detected  this  error  !  These  mistakes  have  marred  whole 
weeks  of  labor.  I  must  have  been  ill.  My  head  must  have 
been  suffering,  to  have  fallen  into  error  like  this ;  for  see, 
here  are  far  deeper  and  more  abstruse  calculations,  —  all 
correct,  all  accurate.  But  who  can  answer  for  moments  of 
weakness !  " 

He  sighed  heavily,  and  the  stern  expression  of  his  features 
assumed  a  look  of  softened,  but  suffering  meaning. 


A   MOUNTAIN  ADVENTURE.  259 

"  I  have  often  thought,"  said  he,  hastily,  "  that  if  another 
were  joined  with  me  in  this  task,  its  completeness  would  be 
more  certain ;  while  to  trust  myself  alone  with  this  secret  is 
both  unwise  and  unjust.  Human  life  is  the  least  certain  of 
all  things.  To-morrow  I  may  be  no  more.  I  have  already 
passed  through  enough  to  bave  brought  many  to  the  grave . 
You,  however,  are  young.  You  have  yet,  in  all  likelihood, 
long  years  of  life  before  you.  What  if  you  were  to  become 
my  associate  ?  " 

I  gave  no  reply  for  some  seconds.  When  he  repeated  his 
words  still  more  forcibly,  — 

"  I  should  first  learn  what  it  is  I  should  be  engaged  in," 
said  I.  "I  should  be  satisfied  that  the  object  was  just, 
reasonable,  and,  above  all,  practicable." 

"  You  speak  like  a  sage,  boy,"  cried  he.  "  Whence  came 
such  wisdom  as  this?  " 

"All  my  teachings  of  this  kind,"  said  I,  "have  come 
from  her  who  now  calls  herself  my  mother,  and  whom  I 
love  with  a  son's  affection." 

"  Aud  how  is  she  called?" 

I  could  not  tell  him.  I  only  knew  her  as  one  who  was 
as  a  mother  to  me,  and  yet  said  she  had  no  title  to  that 
name.  Once  or  twice  I  had  heard  her  addressed  as  the 
Countess.     There  ended  my  knowledge  of  her  condition. 

"She  is  rich,  then?"  asked  he. 

"  Far  from  it,"  said  I,  sorrowfully. 

"Then  can  I  make  her  so!"  exclaimed  he.  "Joined 
with  me  in  this  mighty  enterprise,  you  can  be  the  richest 
and  the  greatest  man  of  the  age.  Nay,  child,  this  is  not 
matter  to  smile  at.  I  am  no  dreamer,  no  moon-struck 
student  of  the  impossible.  I  do  not  ponder  over  those 
subtle  combinations  of  metals  that  are  to  issue  forth  in 
yellow  gold,  nor  do  I  labor  to  distil  the  essences  which  are 
to  crystallize  into  rubies.  What  I  strive  at  has  been  reached 
already,  —  the  goal  won,  the  prize  enjoyed  !  Ay,  by  my  own 
father.  By  him  was  this  brilliant  discovery  proclaimed 
triumphantly  before  the  face  of  Europe." 

The  exultation  with  which  he  uttered  these  words  seemed 
to  carry  him  away  in  thought  from  the  scene  wherein  he 
stood,  and  his  eyes  gleamed  with  a  strange  fire,  aud  his  lips 


260  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

continued  to  mutter  rapidly.  Then,  ceasing  of  a  sudden,  he 
said,  — 

"I  must  seek  her;  she  will  recognize  me,  for  she  will 
have  heard  our  history.  She  will  give  her  permission,  too, 
to  you  to  join  me  in  my  great  design.  The  fate  that  sent 
you  hither  was  no  accident.  Boy,  there  are  none  such  in 
life.  Our  passions  in  their  wilfulness  color  destiny  with 
fitful  changes,  and  these  we  call  chance ;  but  in  nature  all 
is  predetermined,  and  by  plan." 

Now  rambling  on  this  wise,  now  stopping  to  question 
me  as  to  who  we  were,  whence  we  came,  and  with  what 
objects,  he  continued  to  talk  till,  fairly  overcome  by  weari- 
ness, I  dropped  off  to  sleep,  his  loud  tones  still  ringing  in 
my  ears  through  my  dreams. 

The  following  day  he  never  left  me ;  he  seemed  insa- 
tiable in  his  desire  to  learn  what  progress  I  had  made  in 
knowledge,  and  how  far  my  acquirements  extended.  For 
classical  learning  and  literature  he  evinced  no  respect. 
These  and  modern  languages,  he  said,  were  mere  accom- 
plishments that  might  adorn  a  life  of  ease  and  luxury ;  but 
that  to  a  man  who  would  be  truly  great  there  was  but  one 
subject  of  inquiry,  —  the  source  of  wealth,  and  the  causes 
which  make  states  affluent.  These,  he  said,  were  the 
legitimate  subjects  for  high  intelligence  to  engage  upon. 
"  Master  these,"  said  he,  "  and  monarchs  are  your  vas- 
sals." I  was  amazed  to  discover  that  amid  the  mass  of 
prejudices  which  encumbered  his  mind,  it  was  stored  with 
information  the  most  various  and  remarkable.  It  was  evi- 
dent, too,  that  he  had  lived  much  in  the  great  world,  and 
was  familiar  with  all  its  habits  and  opinions.  As  time  wore 
on,  I  learned  from  him  that  his  present  life,  with  all  its 
privations,  was  purely  voluntary ;  that  he  possessed  suffi- 
cient means  to  support  an  existence  of  comfort  and  ease. 
"But,"  added  he,  "if  you  would  give  the  intelligence  a 
supremacy,  it  must  be  done  at  the  cost  of  animal  enjoy- 
ment. If  the  body  is  to  be  pampered,  the  brain  will  take 
its  ease.  To  this  end  came  I  here ;  to  this  end  have  I  lived 
fourteen  years  of  toil  and  isolation.  I  have  estranged  my- 
self from  all  that  could  distract  me  ;  friendships,  pleasures, 
the  great  events  of  the  age,  —  I  know  none  of  them  !     I  am 


A   MOUNTAIN   ADVENTURE.  261 

satisfied  to  toil  and  think  now  that,  in  after  ages,  men 
should  hold  my  name  in  reverence,  and  regard  my  memory 
with  affection." 

Although  he  constantly  made  allusions  of  this  kind,  he 
never  proceeded  to  give  me  any  closer  insight  into  his 
designs ;  and  if  at  moments  the  reasonableness  of  his 
manner  and  the  strong  force  of  his  remarks  impressed  me 
favorably  with  regard  to  his  powers  of  mind,  at  others  I 
was  induced  to  think  that  nothing  short  of  erring  faculties 
could  have  condemned  a  man  to  a  voluntary  life  of  such 
abject  want  and  of  such  cruel  privation  as  he  endured. 

It  was  still  some  weeks  before  I  had  strength  to  return 
home ;  but  he  permitted  me  to  write  every  second  day  to  my 
mother  and  Raper,  from  whom  I  heard  in  return/  If  at 
first  my  ardent  longing  to  be  once  more  at  home  —  to  be 
with  those  who  made  up  the  whole  world  of  my  existence  — 
surpassed  all  other  thoughts,  I  grew  day  by  day  to  feel  the 
strange  fascination  of  an  unknown  interest  in  the  subject 
of  his  talk,  and  to  experience  an  intense  anxiety  to  know 
his  secret. 

It  was  evident  that  he  felt  the  influence  he  had  obtained 
over  me,  and  was  bent  on  extending  and  enlarging  it ;  for 
constantly  would  he  dwell  upon  the  themes  which  attracted 
me  and  fascinated  my  attention.  Shall  I  confess  what 
these  were?  The  brilliant  pictures  of  courtly  life,  the 
splendor  and  fascination  of  a  palace,  where  all  that  could 
charm  and  captivate  abounded,  and  all  were  at  the  feet  of 
one  who,  not  a  king,  was  yet  greater  than  a  king,  and  who 
in  the  mighty  power  of  his  intellect  held  kings  and  kaisers 
as  his  bond-slaves. 

That  these  were  not  mere  fancies  he  assured  me  by 
saying,  — 

"  This  has  been  witnessed  by  all  Europe;  it  is  not  more 
than  fifty  years  ago  that  the  world  has  seen  all  that  I  tell 
you.  "When  I  can  convince  you  of  this,  will  you  pledge 
yourself  to  be  my  follower?" 

I  at  once  gave  my  promise,  and  ratified  it  by  a  solemn 
vow. 

The  next  day  we  started  on  our  return  to  Reichenau. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

"THE     HERR     ROBERT." 

I  wixl  not  attempt  to  describe  the  welcome  that  met  me  on 
my  return,  nor  the  gratitude  with  which  my  mother  over- 
whelmed my  kind  protector.  The  whole  school,  and  no 
inconsiderable  part  of  the  village  itself,  had  gone  forth  to 
meet  us,  and  we  were  conducted  back  in  a  sort  of  triumph. 
Over  and  over  again  was  I  obliged  to  recount  my  story,  of 
which  the  mystery  still  remained  unexplained.  Who  and 
what  was  the  strange  recluse  who  so  long  had  inhabited 
the  castle  of  the  Forlorn  Glen,  and  who  now  stood  before 
them,  old  and  simply  clad,  but  still  bearing  unmistakable 
marks  of  having  been  a  person  of  some  condition? 

As  Mr.  Robert  he  desired  to  be  known  by  me,  and  as 
such  was  he  received  by  my  mother.  He  declined  the  offer 
she  freely  made  him  of  a  room  in  her  own  small  house,  and 
hired  a  little  lodging  in  the  toll-house  on  the  bridge,  and 
which  he  said  was  convenient  to  the  garden  of  the  chateau, 
where  he  obtained  the  liberty  of  walking.  If  the  interest 
which  he  manifested  in  me  was  at  first  a  cause  of  anxiety 
to  my  mother,  not  knowing  what  it  portended,  nor  how  far 
it  might  contribute  to  withdraw  my  affection  from  herself, 
it  was  clear  that  she  soon  became  satisfied  with  whatever 
explanation  he  afforded,  and  that  those  long  conversations, 
frequently  prolonged  to  a  late  hour  of  the  night,  which  they 
held  together,  had  the  effect  of  reconciling  her  to  his  views 
and  intentions. 

Thus  was  a  new  individual  introduced  into  the  little  circle 
of  our  family  party,  and  each  Sunday  saw  him  seated  at 
our  dinner-table,  of  which  his  conversation  formed  the 
great  charm.  It  was  not  alone  that  his  mind  was  stored 
with  varied    information    the    most    rare  and   curious,   but 


"THE   HERR   ROBERT."  263 

his  knowledge  of  the  world  itself  and  of  mankind  seemed 
more  remarkable  still ;  and  frequently,  after  he  had  left  us 
of  an  evening,  have  I  overheard  my  mother  express  her 
wonder  to  Raper  who  and  what  he  had  been,  and  by  what 
strange  events  he  was  reduced  to  his  present  condition. 
These  remarks  of  hers  at  first  showed  me  that  whatever 
revelations  he  might  have  made  in  his  long  interviews  with 
her,  he  had  told  little  or  nothing  of  his  own  story.  Such 
was  indeed  the  case,  and  I  can  remember  well  a  little  scene, 
in  itself  unimportant  and  of  no  consequence,  which  can  both 
portray  my  mother's  intense  curiosity  on  this  theme,  and 
display  some  traits  of  him  for  whom  it  was  excited. 

It  happened  that  at  the  period  when  her  little  quarterly 
pittance  came  due,  my  mother  was  confined  to  home  by  a 
slight  feverish  cold,  and  Herr  Klann,  the  banker  and  money- 
changer of  the  village,  was  condescending  enough  to  come 
in  person  and  hand  her  the  amount.  In  spite  of  her  narrow 
fortune,  my  mother  had  always  been  treated  with  a  marked 
deference  by  the  village,  and  Herr  Klann  demeaned  himself 
on  the  occasion  with  every  show  of  courtesy  and  politeness. 
He  indeed  did  not  scruple  to  display  that  he  was  the  great 
depositary  of  riches  for  miles  and  miles  around ;  that  all 
the  relations  of  trade  and  commerce,  all  the  circumstances 
of  family  fortune,  —  the  dowries  of  brides,  the  portions  of 
younger  sons,  —  were  in  his  charge  and  keeping.  He  talked 
much  of  the  responsibility  of  his  station  and  its  requirements, 
and,  like  many  others,  while  encomiumizing  his  secrecy,  he 
exhibited  the  very  opposite  quality.  There  was  not  a  house 
in  the  village  or  its  neighborhood  of  which  he  did  not  inci- 
dentally relate  some  story  or  incident.  He  became,  in  fact, 
candor  itself  in  his  confessions.  It  is  but  fair  to  own  that 
my  mother  looked  most  becomingly  in  her  half  invalid  cos- 
tume, and  that  the  little  straw-wrapped  flask  of  "  Sieben- 
berger"  with  which  she  regaled  him  was  excellent.  Herr 
Klann  was  a  man  to  acknowledge  both  such  inthiences.  He 
possessed  the  Hebrew  weaknesses  both  as  regards  gold  and 
beauty.  He  therefore  became  largely  confidential,  —  taking 
a  survey  of  the  whole  neighborhood,  and  revealing  their  cir- 
cumstances with  the  minute  anatomy  that  a  surgeon  might 
have   employed  in  displaying  their  structure.     My    mother 


264  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

heard  him  with  no  peculiar  interest  till  by  accident  he 
alluded  to  the  "  Herr  Robert;  "  it  was  a  mere  reference  to 
the  toll-house  where  he  lived,  but  the  name  at  once  awakened 
her  attention. 

"  With  him,  I  conclude,"  said  she,  "  your  money  dealings 
are  few.     He  does  not  appear  to  be  wealthy." 

"  He  is  a  mystery  in  every  way,  madam,"  replied  Klann, 
"  his  very  cash  does  not  come  through  a  banker  or  an  agent ; 
he  has  no  credit,  no  bills  —  nothing.  He  comes  down  to  me 
at  times,  say  once  a  month  or  so,  to  change  a  few  gold  pieces, 
—  they  are  always  '  Louis,'  I  remark,  and  sometimes  of  the 
time  of  the  late  reign.  They  are  good  money,  and  full 
weight  invariably,  that  I  must  say." 

"  And  what  may  be  your  own  opinion  of  all  this?  " 

"  I  can  form  none,  —  positively  none,  madam.  Of  course 
I  need  not  say  that  I  regret  the  vulgar  notion  in  the  village 
that  he  is  in  communication  with  supernatural  agencies ; 
neither  you  nor  I,  madam,  are  likely  to  fall  into  this  absurd 
mistake." 

"And  so  you  rather  incline  to  suppose  — "  She  drew 
out  the  words  tardily,  and  fixed  on  Herr  Klann  a  look  of 
ineffable  softness  and  intelligence  together. 

"I  do,  madam,  —  that  is  my  private  opinion,"  said  he, 
sententiously. 

"  Would  that  account  for  the  life  he  has  been  leading  for 
some  years  back,  —  should  we  have  found  him  passing  such  a 
long  term  in  isolation  from  all  the  world?"  asked  she. 

"  I  think  so,  madam,  and  I  will  tell  you  why.  The  agents 
employed  by  the  regency,  and  in  the  beginning  of  the  present 
reign  in  France,  were  all  men  of  certain  condition,  —  many 
of  them  belonged  to  high  families,  and,  having  ruined  their 
fortunes  by  extravagance,  were  fain  to  take  any  occupation 
for  mere  subsistence.  Some  of  them  resided  as  nobles  in 
Vienna,  and  were  received  at  the  court  of  the  Empress. 
Others  gained  admittance  to  St.  James's.  They  were 
supplied  with  money,  both  for  purposes  of  play  and  bribery ; 
and  that  they  used  such  means  to  good  account  is  now  matter 
of  history.  When  the  game  was  played  out,  and  they  were 
no  longer  needed  by  the  government,  such  men  were  obliged 
to  retire  from  the  stage  whereon  they  had  only  played  a 


"THE   HERR   ROBERT."  265 

part.  The  Due  tie  Senneterre  went  into  a  monastery ;  Count 
Leon  de  Rhode  set  off  for  the  New  World  ;  and  there  was 
one  taken  ill  in  this  very  village,  whose  name  I  now  forget, 
who  had  gone  into  the  priesthood,  and  was  head  of  a  semi- 
nary in  Flanders.  What  more  likely,  then,  than  that  our 
friend  at  the  bridge  yonder  was  some  great  celebrity  of  those 
times,  of  which  I  hear  he  loves  to  talk  and  declaim  ?  " 

The  hint  thus  thrown  out  made  a  deep  impression  on  my 
mother.  It  served  to  explain  not  only  many  circumstances 
of  Herr  Robert's  position,  but  also  to  account  for  the  strange 
glimpses  of  a  great  and  glorious  future,  in  which  at  moments 
of  excitement  he  would  indulge.  A  life  of  intrigue  and  plot 
would  naturally  enough  suggest  ambitious  hopes,  and  con- 
duce to  the  very  frame  of  mind  which  he  appeared  to  reach. 
That  I  should  become  the  follower  of  such  a  man,  and  the 
disciple  of  such  a  school,  revolted  against  all  her  feelings. 
The  spy,  no  matter  how  highly  accredited  and  how  richly 
rewarded,  was,  in  her  eyes,  the  most  ignoble  of  all  careers, 
and  she  would  rather  have  seen  me  clad  in  the  sheepskin 
of  an  Alpine  shepherd  than  wearing,  in  this  capacity,  the 
decorations  of  every  order  of  Europe. 

From  the  moment,  therefore,  the  suspicion  crossed  her 
mind  that  Herr  Robert  had  been  such,  she  firmly  determined 
to  withdraw  me  altogether  from  his  intimacy.  Nor  was  the 
step  an  easy  one.  He  had  become  a  recognized  member  of 
our  little  household ;  each  evening  saw  him  seated  at  our 
hearth  or  board ;  on  every  Sunday  he  dined  with  us.  His 
little  presents  of  wine  and  fruit,  and  occasionally  of  books, 
showed  that  he  intended  reciprocity  to  be  a  basis  of  our 
intercourse,  of  which,  indeed,  the  balance  lay  in  our  favor. 
How,  therefore,  was  such  a  state  of  things  to  be  suddenly 
arrested?  How  bring  to  an  abrupt  conclusion  an  intimacy 
of  which  nothing  had  hitherto  interrupted  the  peaceful 
course?  This  was  a  matter  of  no  common  difficulty,  and  for 
several  days  did  she  ponder  over  it  to  herself. 

It  chanced  that,  for  the  first  time  since  her  arrival  at 
Reichenau,  Herr  Robert  had  been  slightly  indisposed,  and 
being  unable  to  come  and  see  us,  had  sent  for  me  to  come 
each  evening  and  read  to  him.  At  any  other  moment  my 
mother  would  have  thought  no  more  of  this,  but  coming  now. 


266  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

at  the  very  time  when  her  feelings  of  doubt  and  suspicion 
were  torturing  her,  she  regarded  the  circumstance  with  actual 
apprehension. 

At  first,  she  thought  of  sending  Raper  along  with  me,  in 
the  guise  of  protector  ;  but  as  Herr  Robert  had  not  requested 
his  company,  there  seemed  an  awkwardness  in  this ;  then 
she  half  resolved  to  refuse  me  permission,  on  pretence  of 
requiring  my  presence  at  home :  this,  too,  would  look  un- 
gracious ;  and  when  at  last  she  did  accord  her  leave,  it  was 
for  a  very  limited  time,  and  with  strict  injunctions  to  be  back 
by  an  early  hour. 

It  chanced  that  Herr  Robert  felt  on  this  evening  a  more 
than  ordinary  desire  to  be  frank  and  confidential.  He 
related  to  me  various  anecdotes  of  his  early  days,  the  scenes 
he  had  mixed  in,  and  the  high  associates  with  whom  he  was 
intimate  ;  and  when  he  had  excited  my  curiosity  and  wonder- 
ment to  a  high  degree,  by  gorgeous  narratives  of  the  great 
world,  he  stopped  short  and  said:  "I  would  not  have  you 
think,  Jasper,  that  these  dukes  and  princes  were  more  gifted 
or  more  endowed  than  other  men ;  the  only  real  difference 
between  them  is,  that  they  employ  their  faculties  on  great 
events,  not  little  ones ;  and  all  their  pleasures,  their  amuse- 
ments, their  very  vices,  react  upon  the  condition  of  mankind 
in  general,  and  consequently  whatever  goes  forward  in  their 
society  has  a  certain  amount  of  importance,  not  for  itself, 
but  for  what  may  follow  it." 

These  words  made  a  profound  impression  upon  me,  lead- 
ing to  the  conviction  that  out  of  this  charmed  circle  life  had 
no  ambition  worth  striving  for,  no  successes  that  deserved 
a  struggle.  From  my  mother  I  had  no  concealment,  and 
before  I  went  to  my  bed  I  told  her  all  that  the  Herr  Robert 
had  said  to  me,  and  showed  how  deeply  this  sentiment  had 
sunk  into  my  mind. 

I  conclude  that  it  must  have  been  from  some  relation  to 
her  former  fears  she  took  immediate  alarm  at  the  possible 
bent  my  mind  was  receiving.  Assuredly  she  deemed  that 
his  influence  over  me  was  not  without  peril,  and  resolved  the 
following  morning  to  send  for  the  Herr  Robert,  and  in  all 
frankness  avow  her  fears,  and  appeal  to  his  friendship  to 
allay  them. 


"THE   HERR   ROBERT."  267 

I  was  about  to  set  off  for  school  when  the  old  rnaii  was 
ascending  the  stairs,  and  taking  me  by  the  hand  he  led  me 
back  again  into  the  little  chamber,  where  my  mother  awaited 
him. 

"  Let  Jasper  remain  with  us,  madam,"  said  he ;  "  the  few 
words  of  your  note  have  shown  me  what  is  passing  in  your 
mind,  and  it  will  save  yon  and  me  a  world  of  explanation  if 
he  be  suffered  to  be  present." 

My  mother  assented,  not  over  willingly,  perhaps,  and  the 
old  111:111,   taking  a  seat,  at  once  begun,  — 

"  If  I  had  ever  suspected,  madam,  that  my  history  could 
have  possibly  possessed  any  interest  for  you,  you  should 
certainly  have  heard  it  ere  now.  My  opinion  was,  however, 
different;  and  I  thought,  moreover,  that  as  I  had  strictly 
abstained  from  encroaching  upon  your  confidence,  an  equal 
reserve  might  have  protected  mine.  Forgive  me  if  by  any 
accident  the  slightest  word  should  escape  me  to  cause  3'ou 
paiu  or  displeasure.  Nothing  can  be  further  from  my 
thoughts  than  this  intention,  and  I  beg  of  you  so  to  receive 
whatever  I  say. 

"  Some  years  ago,  a  physician,  in  whom  T  had  and  have 
the  fullest  confidence,  forewarned  me  that  if  certain  symp- 
toms which  I  then  labored  under  should  ever  recur,  my  case 
would  be  beyond  remedy,  and  my  life  could  not  be  pro- 
longed many  days.  Two  days  since,  the  first  signs  of  these 
became  evident ;  yesterday  the  appearance  became  more 
palpable;  to-day  I  recognize  them  in  full  force.  When  a 
man  of  my  age  talks  of  his  approaching  death,  he  only 
speaks  of  what  has  been  before  his  thoughts  every  day  and 
every  night  for  years  back.  Whatever  benefit  I  was  ever 
capable  of  rendering  my  fellow-men  in  my  younger  days,  I 
have  been  latterly  a  useless  and  profitless  member  of  the 
guild,  and  for  this  reason,  that  though  time  had  not  effaced 
my  powers  of  intellect,  the  energy  and  the  force  that  should 
develop  them  was  gone.  Without  youth  there  is  no  vitality ; 
without  vitality,  no  action;  without  action,  no  success.  I 
often  fancied  what  results  might  arise  if  to  the  mature 
thoughts  and  experience  of  age  were  to  be  added  the  fire,  the 
energy,  and  the  passion  of  youth.  If  caution  and  rashness, 
reserve  and  intrepidity,  the  distrust  that  comes  of  knowiug 


268  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

men,  with  that  credulous  hope  that  stirs  the  young  heart,  were 
all  to  centre  in  one  nature,  what  might  we  not  effect?  The 
fate  that  brought  Jasper  and  myself  together  whispered  to 
me  that  he  might  become  such !  I  pictured  to  my  mind  the 
training  he  should  go  through,  the  hard  discipline  of  work 
and  labor,  and  yet  without  impairing  in  the  slightest  that 
mainspring  of  all  power,  the  daring  courage  and  energy  of 
a  young  and  brave  spirit.  To  this  end,  he  should  incur 
no  failures  in  early  life,  never  know  a  reverse  till  it  could 
become  to  him  the  starting-point  for  higher  success.  And 
thus  launched  upon  life  with  every  favoring  breeze  of  for- 
tune, what  might  not  be  predicted  of  his  course  ? 

"  He  who  would  stand  high  among  his  fellow-men,  and  be 
regarded  as  their  benefactor  and  superior  during  his  lifetime, 
must  essentially  be  a  man  of  action !  The  great  geniuses 
of  authorship,  the  illustrious  in  art,  have  received  their  best 
rewards  from  posterity  ;  contemporaries  have  attacked  them, 
depreciated  and  reviled  them ;  the  very  accidents  of  their 
lives  have  served  to  injure  the  excellence  of  their  composi- 
tions. But  the  man  of  action  stands  forth  to  his  own  age 
great  and  distinguished ;  the  world  on  which  his  services 
have  bestowed  benefits  is  proud  to  reward  him !  and  either 
as  a  legislator,  a  conqueror,  or  a  discoverer,  his  claims  meet 
full  acknowledgment. 

"  Who  would  not  be  one  of  these,  then?  —  who  would  not 
aspire  to  win  the  enthusiasm  that  tracks  such  a  career,  and 
makes  a  mere  mortal  godlike? 

"To  be  such  I  possessed  the  secret!  Nay,  madam,  this 
is  not  the  weakness  of  faltering  intellect,  nor  the  outpouring 
of  a  silly  vanity.  Hear  me  out  with  patience  but  a  very  little 
longer.  It  is  not  of  some  wonder  of  science  or  of  mystery, 
of  occult  art,  that  I  speak ;  and  yet  the  power  to  which  I 
allude  is  infinitely  greater  than  any  of  these  were  ever  fan- 
cied to  bestow.  Imagine  an  engine  by  which  the  failing 
energies  of  a  whole  nation  can  be  rallied,  its  wasting  vigor 
repaired,  its  resources  invigorated.  Fancy  a  nation  — 
millions — brought  out  of  poverty,  debt,  and  distress,  into 
wealth,  affluence,  and  abundance ;  the  springs  of  their  in- 
dustry reinforced,  the  sources  of  their  traffic  refreshed. 
Picture  to  your  mind  the  change  from  an  embarrassed  gov- 


"THE   HERR  ROBERT."  269 

erament,  a  ruined  aristocracy,  an  indebted,  poverty-stricken 
people,  to  a  full  treasury,  a  splendid  nobility,  and  a  pros- 
perous and  powerful  nation.  Imagine  all  this ;  and  then,  if 
you  can  ascribe  the  transformation  to  the  working  of  one 
man's  intelligence,  what  will  you  say  of  him? 

"I  am  not  conjuring  up  a  mere  visionary  or  impossible 
triumph ;  what  I  describe  has  been  actually  done,  and  he 
who  accomplished  it  was  my  own  father ! 

"Yes,  madam,  the  mightiest  financial  scheme  the  world 
has  ever  witnessed,  the  grandest  exemplification  of  the  prin- 
ciple of  credit  that  has  ever  been  promulgated  by  man,  was 
his  invention.  He  farmed  the  whole  revenues  of  France,  and 
at  one  stroke  annihilated  the  peculation  of  receivers-general, 
and  secured  the  revenue  of  the  nation.  He  fructified  the 
property  of  the  state  by  employing  its  vast  resources  in 
commercial  speculations ;  from  the  east  to  the  west,  from 
the  fertile  valley  of  the  Mississippi  to  the  golden  plains  of 
Asia,  he  opened  every  land  to  the  enterprise  of  Frenchmen. 
Paris  itself  he  made  the  capital  city  of  the  world.  Who  has 
not  heard  of  the  splendor  of  the  regency,  of  Chantilly,  the 
gorgeous  palace  of  the  Due  d'Orl6ans,  the  very  stables  more 
magnificent  than  the  residences  of  many  princes?  The 
wealth  and  the  rank  of  Europe  flocked  thither ;  and  in  the 
pleasures  of  that  paradise  of  capitals  lies  the  history  of  an 
age !  He  who  did  all  this  was  my  own  father,  and  his  name 
was  John  Law,  of  Lauriston  !  Ay,  madam,  you  see  before 
you,  poor,  humbly  clad,  and  gray-haired,  going  down  to  the 
grave  in  actual  want,  the  son  of  a  man  who  once  counted  his 
revenue  by  millions,  whose  offerings  to  the  Church  of  St. 
Roch  would  have  made  a  meet  dowry  for  a  princess,  and 
whose  very  menials  acquired  fortunes  such  as  modern  nobility 
cannot  equal." 

As  he  spoke,  he  drew  forth  a  large  silver-clasped  pocket- 
book,  and,  opening  it,  took  out  a  mass  of  papers. 

"  I  do  not  ask  you  to  take  any  part  of  this  on  trust,"  con- 
tinued lie.  "  There,  with  the  seal  of  the  chancellor,  and  the 
date,  January  the  5th,  1720,  is  his  patent  as  comptroller- 
general  of  France.  Here  are  letters  from  the  Regent,  the 
Prince  of  Deux-Ponts,  the  Duke  of  Rohan  ;  I  leave  them  in 
your  hands,  and  will  send  you  others  that  authenticate  all 


270  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

I  have  stated.  Of  my  own  life,  humble  and  uneventful,  I 
have  no  wish  to  speak ;  more  than  this  I  know,  for  I  have 
long  studied  the  great  principles  of  my  father's  secret. 
The  causes  of  his  reverses  I  have  thoroughly  investigated ; 
they  are  not  inherent  in  the  system,  nor  are  they  reasonably 
attributable  to  it  in  any  way.  His  discovery  must  not  be 
disparaged  by  the  vices  of  a  profligate  prince,  a  venal  admin- 
istration, and  an  ignorant  cabinet;  nor  must  the  grandeur  of 
his  conception  be  charged  with  the  rash  infatuation  of  a  nation 
of  gamblers.  Law's  system  stands  free  from  every  taint  of 
dishonesty,  when  dissociated  with  the  names  of  those  who 
prostituted  it.  For  years  long  have  I  studied  the  theory, 
and  tested  it  by  every  proof  within  my  power.  To  make 
the  fact  known  to  the  world ;  to  publish  abroad  the  great 
truth,  that  credit  well  based  and  fortified  is  national  wealth, 
and  that  national  wealth,  so  based,  is  almost  boundless, — 
this  became  the  object  of  my  whole  life.  I  knew  that  a  cer- 
tain time  must  elapse  ere  the  disasters  that  followed  my 
father's  downfall  were  forgotten,  and  that  I  should,  in  all 
likelihood,  never  live  to  see  the  day  when  his  glorious  system 
would  be  revived,  and  his  memory  vindicated ;  but  I  hoped 
to  have  found  one  worthy  to  inherit  this  secret,  and  in  whose 
keeping  it  might  be  transmitted  to  after  ages.  I  will  not 
weary  you  with  the  story  of  all  my  disappointments,  the 
betrayals,  and  the  treachery,  and  the  falsehoods  I  have  en- 
dured. Enough !  I  became  a  recluse  from  mankind.  I  gave 
myself  up  to  my  old  pursuits  of  calculation  and  combination, 
undisturbed ;  and  I  have  lived  on,  to  this  hour,  with  one 
thought  ever  before  me,  and  one  fear,  —  is  this  great  secret 
to  die  out  with  me?  and  are  countless  millions  of  men  des- 
tined to  toil  and  slavery,  while  this  vast  source  of  affluence 
and  power  shall  lie  rusting  and  unused  ?  " 

The  intense  fervor  of  his  voice,  and  his  tone  of  self-con- 
viction as  he  spoke,  had  evidently  impressed  my  mother 
strongly  in  his  favor ;  and  when  she  turned  over  one  by 
one  the  letters  before  her,  and  read  passages  penned  by  the 
hand  of  Du  Pin,  the  chief  secretary  of  the  Regent,  D'Argen- 
son,  Alberoni  the  Cardinal,  and  others  of  like  station,  and 
then  turned  to  look  on  the  feeble  and  wasted  figure  of  the 
old  man,  her  eyes  filled  with  tears  of  pity  and  compassion. 


"THE   HERR   ROBERT"  271 

"My  heart  is  now  relieved  of  a  weary  load,"  said  he, 
sighing.  "  Now  I  shall  go  back  to  my  home,  and  to-mor- 
row, if  I  be  not  able  to  come  here,  you  and  Jasper  will  visit 
me,  for  I  have  still  much  to  tell  you." 

My  mother  did  her  utmost  to  detain  him  where  he  was. 
She  saw  that  the  excitement  of  his  narrative  had  greatly 
increased  the  symptoms  of  fever  upon  him,  and  she  wished 
to  tend  and  watch  over  him  ;  but  he  was  resolute  in  his 
determination,   and  left  us,   almost  abruptly. 

Raper  and  myself  went  several  times  that  evening  to  see 
him,  but  he  would  not  receive  us.  The  reply  to  our  inqui- 
ries was,  that  he  was  deeply  engaged,  and  could  not  be  dis- 
turbed. I  remember  well  how  often  during  the  night  I  arose 
from  my  bed  to  look  out  at  the  little  window  of  the  toll- 
house, which  was  that  of  Herr  Robert's  room.  A  light 
burned  there  the  whole  night  through,  and  more  than  once 
I  could  see  his  figure  pass  between  it  and  the  window.  Poor 
old  man !  —  was  it  that  he  was  devoting  the  last  few  hours 
of  his  life  to  the  weary  task  that  had  worn  him  to  a  very 
shadow?  Towards  daybreak  I  sank  into  a  heavy  sleep, 
from  which  I  was  suddenly  awakened  by  Raper  calling  on 
me  to  get  up  and  dress  at  once. 

"Herr  Robert  is  dying!"  said  he,  "and  wishes  to  see 
you  and  speak  with  you.  Be  quick,  for  there  is  not  a 
moment  to  lose." 

I  dressed  myself  as  speedily  as  my  trembling  limbs  would 
permit,  and  followed  Raper  down  the  stairs  and  into  the 
street.  My  mother  was  already  there,  waiting  for  us,  and 
we  hurried  along  towards  the  toll-house  without  a  word. 

The  toll-keeper's  wife  beckoned  to  us  impatiently  as  we 
came  in  sight,  and  we  pressed  eagerly  on,  and  entered  the 
little  chamber  where  Herr  Robert  lay  half-dressed  upon  his 
bed.  He  knew  us,  and  took  each  of  us  by  the  hand  as  we 
came  forward.  His  face  was  greatly  flushed,  and  his  eyes 
stared  wildly,  and  his  dry,  cracked  lips  muttered  frequently 
and  fast.  Several  large  packages  of  papers  lay  beside  him, 
sealed  and  addressed,  and  to  these  he  made  a  motion  with 
his  hand,  as  if  he  would  speak  of  them. 

"Tell  us  of  yourself,  Herr  Robert,"  said  my  mother,  in  a 
kind  voice,  as  she  sat  down  beside  him.  "  Do  you  feel  any 
pain?" 


272  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

He  seemed  not  to  hear  her,  but  muttered  indistinctly  to 
himself.     Then,  turning  short  round  to  me,  he  said,  — 

"  I  have  forgotten  the  number  of  the  house,  but  you  can't 
mistake  it.  It  is  the  only  one  with  a  stone  balcony  over 
the  entrance  gate.  It  was  well  enough  known  once.  John 
Law's  house,  —  the  '  Rue  Quincampoix.'  The  room  looks  to 
the  back  —  and  the  safe  —  Who  is  listening  to  us?  " 

I  reassured  him,  and  he  went  on  :  — 

"The  ingots  were  forged  as  if  coming  from  the  gold 
mines  of  Louisiana.  D'Argenson  knew  the  trick,  and  the 
Regent  too.  They  it  was  who  wrecked  him,  —  they  and 
Tencivi." 

His  eyes  grew  heavy,  and  his  voice  subsided  to  a  mere 
murmur  after  this,  and  he  seemed  to  fall  off  in  a  drowsy 
stupor.  The  whole  of  that  day  and  the  next  he  lingered  on 
thus,  breathing  heavily,  and  at  intervals  seeming  to  en- 
deavor to  rally  himself  from  the  oppression  of  sleep ;  but  in 
vain !  Exhaustion  was  complete,  and  he  passed  away 
calmly,  and  so  quietly  that  we  did  not  mark  the  moment 
when  he  ceased  to  breathe. 

My  mother  led  me  away  weeping  from  the  room,  and 
Raper  remained  to  look  after  his  papers  and  make  the  few 
arrangements  for  his  humble  burial. 

The  same  day  that  we  laid  him  in  the  earth  came  a  letter 
from  the  Count  de  Gabriac  to  say  that  he  would  be  with  us 
on  the  morrow.  It  was  the  only  letter  he  had  written  for 
several  months  past,  and  my  mother's  joy  was  boundless  at 
the  prospect  of  seeing  him.  Thus  did  sunshine  mingle  with 
shadow  in  our  life,  and  tears  of  happiness  mingle  with  those 
of  sorrow ! 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

THE    COUNT    DE    GABRIAC. 

I  had  often  heard  that  the  day  which  should  see  the  Count 
restored  to  us  would  be  one  of  festivity  and  enjoyment. 
Again  and  again  had  we  talked  over  all  our  plans  of  pleas- 
ure for  that  occasion ;  but  the  reality  was  destined  to  bring 
back  disappointment !  We  were  returning  in  sadness  from 
the  toll-house,  when  a  messenger  came  running  to  tell  of  the 
Count's  arrival ;  and  my  mother,  leaving  me  with  Raper, 
to  whom  she  whispered  a  few  hurried  words,  hastened 
homewards. 

I  thought  it  strange  that  she  had  not  taken  me  along  with 
her ;  but  I  walked  along  silently  at  Raper's  side,  lost  in  my 
own  thoughts,  and  not  sorry  to  have  for  my  companion  one 
little  likely  to  disturb  them.  We  sauntered  onward  through 
some  meadows  that  skirted  the  river ;  and  at  last,  coming 
down  to  the  stream,  seated  ourselves  by  the  brink,  each  still 
sunk  in  his  own  reflections. 

It  was  a  bright  day  of  midsummer :  the  air  had  all  that 
exhilaration  peculiar  to  the  season  in  these  Alpine  districts. 
The  stream  ran  clear  as  crystal  at  our  feet ;  and  the  verdure 
of  grass  and  foliage  was  in  its  full  perfection.  But  one 
single  object  recalled  a  thought  of  sorrow,  and  that  was  the 
curtained  window  of  the  little  chamber  wherein  Herr  Robert 
lay  dead. 

To  this  spot  my  eyes  would  return,  do  what  I  could  ;  and 
thither,  too,  sped  all  my  thoughts,  in  spite  of  me.  The 
influence  which  for  some  time  back  he  had  possessed  over 
me  was  perfectly  distinct  from  that  which  originates  in 
affectionate  attachment.  Indeed,  all  his  appeals  to  me  were 
the  very  reverse  of  such.  His  constant  argument  was,  that 
a  man  fettered  by  affection,  and  restricted  by  ties  of  family, 
was  worthless  for  all  purposes  of  high  ambition,  and  that 
18 


274  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

for  the  real  successes  of  life,  one  must  sacrifice  everything 
like  individual  enjoyment.  80  far  had  he  impressed  me 
with  these  notions  that  I  already  felt  a  kind  of  pleasure  in 
little  acts  of  self-denial,  and  rose  in  my  own  esteem  by  slight 
traits  of  self-restraint.  The  comparative  isolation  in  which 
I  lived,  and  my  estrangement  from  those  of  my  own  age, 
favored  this  impression,  and  I  grew  by  degrees  to  look  upon 
the  sports  and  pleasures  of  boyhood  with  all  the  disdainful 
compassion  of  an  old  ascetic. 

I  remember  well  how,  as  I  lay  in  the  deep  grass  and 
watched  the  rippling  circles  of  the  fast-flowing  river,  that 
a  sudden  thought  shot  through  me.  What  if  all  this  theory 
should  prove  but  a  well-disguised  avarice,  —  that  this  pas- 
sion for  distinction  be  only  the  thirst  for  wealth, —  these 
high  purposes  of  philanthropy  but  another  scheme  for  self- 
advancement  !  Is  it  possible  that  for  such  a  price  as  this 
I  would  surrender  all  the  enjoyments  of  youth,  and  all  the 
budding  affections  of  coming  manhood? 

"  Mr.  Joseph,"  said  I,  suddenly,  "  what  is  the  best  life?" 

"  How  do  you  mean,  Jasper?  Is  it,  how  shall  a  man  do 
most  good  to  others?  "  said  he. 

"  Not  alone  that;  but  how  shall  he  best  employ  his  facul- 
ties for  his  own  sake?  " 

"That  may  mean  for  his  personal  advancement,  Jasper, 
for  objects  purely  selfish,  and  be  the  reverse  of  what  your 
first  question  implied." 

"  When  I  said  the  best,  I  meant  the  wisest,"  replied  I. 

"  The  wisest  choice  is  that  of  a  career,  every  duty  of  which 
can  be  fulfilled  without  the  sacrifice  of  kindly  affections  or 
the  relinquishment  of  family  ties.  He  who  can  adopt  such 
is  both  wise  and  happy." 

"Are  you  happy,  Mr.  Joseph?"  asked  I;  "for  I  know 
you  are  wise." 

"  Far  more  happy  than  wise,  Jasper,"  said  he,  smiling. 
"  For  one  like  me,  life  has  borne  many  blessings." 

"Like  you!"  exclaimed  I,  in  surprise,  for  to  my  think- 
ing he  was  a  most  enviable  mortal ;  I  knew  of  no  one  so 
learned,  nor  of  such  varied  acquirements.  "  Like  you, 
Mr.  Joseph !  " 

"Just  so,   Jasper;    I,   who   have  had  neither  home  nor 


THE   COUNT   DE   GABRIAC  275 

family,  have  yet  found  both;  I,  whom  no  ties  of  affection 
encircled,  have  lived  to  feel  what  it  is  to  be  cared  for;  and 
I,  that  almost  despaired  of  being  aught  to  any  one,  have 
found  that  I  can  be  of  use  to  those  whom  it  is  my  chief 
happiness  to  love." 

"Tell  me  your  history,  Mr.  Joseph,  or  at  least  tell  me 
something  about   yourself." 

"My  story,  my  dear  Jasper,  is  but  the  history  of  my 
own  day.  The  least  eventful  of  lives  would  be  adven- 
turous if  placed  alongside  of  mine.  I  began  the  world 
such  as  you  see  me,  poor,  humble-minded,  and  lowly.  I 
continue  my  journey  in  the  same  spirit  that  I  set  out.  The 
tastes  and  pursuits  that  then  gave  me  pleasure  are  still  the 
same  real  sources  of  enjoyment  to  me.  What  were  duties 
are  now  delights.  Your  dear  mother  was  once  my  pupil,  as 
you  are  now ;  and  it  is  my  pride  to  see  that  she  has  neither 
forgotten  our  old  lessons,  nor  lived  to  think  them  value- 
less. Even  here  have  I  seen  her  fall  back  upon  the  pur- 
suits which  occupied  her  childhood  —  ay,  and  they  have 
served  to  lighten  some  gloomy  hours  too." 

Raper  quickly  perceived,  from  the  anxiety  with  which  I 
had  listened,  that  he  had  already  spoken  too  much;  and 
he  abruptly  changed  the  topic  by  saying,  — 

"How  we  shall  miss  the  poor  Herr  Robert!  He  had 
grown  to  seem  one  of  ourselves." 

"And  is  my  mother  unhappy,  Mr.  Joseph?"  said  I, 
recurring  to  the  former  remarks. 

"  Which  of  us  can  claim  an  exemption  from  sorrow, 
Jasper?  Do  you  not  think  that  the  little  village  yonder, 
in  that  cleft  of  the  mountain  —  secluded  as  it  looks  —  has 
not  its  share  of  this  world's  griefs?  Are  there  not  the 
jealousies,  and  the  rivalries,  and  the  heartburnings  of  large 
communities  within  that  narrow  spot?" 

While  he  was  yet  speaking,  a  messenger  came  to  sum- 
mon me  home.  The  Countess,  he  said,  was  waiting  dinner 
for  me,  and  yet  no  invitation  came  for  Raper.  He  seemed, 
however,  not  to  notice  the  omission,  but,  taking  my  hand, 
led  me  along  homeward.  I  saw  that  some  strong  feeling 
was  working  within,  for  twice  or  thrice  he  pressed  my  hand 
fervently,  and  seemed  as  if  about  to  say  something  ;  and 
then,  subduing  the  impulse,  lie  walked  on  in  silence. 


276  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

"Make  my  respectful  compliments  to  the  Count, 
Jasper,"  said  he,  as  we  came  to  the  door,  "and  say 
that  I  will  wait  upon  him  when  it  is  his  pleasure  to  see 
me." 

"  That  would  be  now,  I  'm  sure,"  said  I,  eagerly. 

"  Perhaps  not  so  soon;  he  will  have  so  much  to  say  to 
your  mother.  Another  time ;  "  and,  hurriedly  shaking  my 
hand,  he  retired. 

As  I  slowly,  step  by  step,  mounted  the  stair,  I  could  not 
help  asking  myself,  was  this  the  festive  occasion  I  had  so 
often  pictured  to  myself?  —  was  this  the  happy  meeting  I 
had  looked  forward  to  so  longingly?  As  I  drew  near  the 
door,  I  thought  I  heard  a  sound  like  a  heavy  sob ;  my  hand 
trembled  when  I  turned  the  handle  of  the  lock  and  entered 
the  room. 

"  This  is  Jasper,"  said  my  mother,  coming  towards  me, 
and  trying  to  smile  through  what  I  could  see  were  recent 
tears. 

The  Count  was  seated  on  an  easy-chair,  still  dressed  in 
the  pelisse  he  had  worn  on  the  journey,  and  with  his  trav- 
elling-cap in  his  hand.  He  struck  me  as  a  handsome  and 
distinguished-looking  man,  but  with  a  countenance  that 
alike  betrayed  passion  and  intemperance.  The  look  he 
turned  on  me  as  I  came  forward  was  assuredly  not  one  of 
kindness  or  affection,  nor  did  he  extend  his  hand  to  me  in 
sign  of  salutation. 

"And  this  is  Jasper!"  repeated  he  slowly  after  my 
mother.     "He  isn't  tall  of  his  age,  I  think." 

"We  have  always  thought  him  so,"  said  my  mother, 
gently,  "  and  assuredly  he  is  strong  and  well  grown." 

' '  The  better  able  will  he  be  to  brave  fatigue  and  hard- 
ship," said  he,  sternly.  "  Come  forward,  sir,  and  tell  me 
something  about  yourself.  What  have  they  taught  you  at 
school?  —  has  Raper  made  you  a  bookworm,  dreamy  and 
good-for-nothing  as  himself?  " 

' '  Would  that  he  had  made  me  resemble  him  in  anything ! " 
cried  I,  passionately. 

"  It  were  a  pity  such  a  moderate  ambition  should  go 
unrewarded,"  replied  he,  with  a  sneer.  "But  to  the  pur- 
pose: what  do  you  know?" 

"Little,  sir;  very  little." 


THE   COUNT  DE   GABRIAC.  277 

"  Aud  what  can  you  do?  " 

"  Even  less." 

"  Hopeful,  at  all  events,"  rejoined  he,  with  a  shrug  of 
the  shoulders.  "They  haven't  made  you  a  scholar:  they 
surely  might  have  trained  you  to  something." 

My  mother,  who  seemed  to  suffer  most  acutely  during 
this  short  dialogue,  here  whispered  something  in  his  ear, 
to  which  he  as  hastily  replied,  — 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  I  know  him  better  than  that;  better 
than  you  do.  Come,  sir,"  added  he,  turning  to  me,  "  the 
Countess  tells  me  that  you  are  naturally  sensitive,  quick 
to  feel  censure,  and  prone  to  brood  over  it.  Is  this  the 
case  ?  " 

"  I  scarcely  know  if  it  be,"  said  I.  "I  have  but  a  slight 
experience  of  it." 

"  Ay,  that 's  more  like  the  truth,"  said  he,  gayly.  "The 
language  of  blame  is  not  familiar  to  him.  So,  then,  from 
Raper  you  have  learned  little.  Now,  what  has  the  great 
financier  and  arch-swindler  Law  taught  you?" 

"  Emile,  Emile,"  broke  in  my  mother,  "  this  is  not  a  way 
to  speak  to  the  boy.  nor  is  it  by  such  lessons  he  will  be 
trained  to  gratitude  and  affection." 

"Even  there,  then,  will  my  teaching  serve  him,"  said  he, 
laughingly.  "  From  all  that  I  have  seen  of  life,  these  are 
but  unprofitable  emotions." 

I  did  not  venture  to  look  at  my  mother ;  but  I  could  hear 
how  her  breathing  came  fast  and  thick,  and  could  mark  the 
agitation  she  was  under. 

"Now,  Jasper,"  said  he,  "  sit  down  here  beside  me,  ami 
let  us  talk  to  each  other  in  all  confidence  and  sincerity. 
You  know  enough  of  your  history  to  be  aware  that  you  are 
an  orphan,  that  both  your  parents  died  leaving  you  penni 
less,  aud  that  to  this  lady,  whom  till  now  you  have  called 
your  mother,   you  owe  your  home." 

My  heart  was  full  to  bursting,  and  I  could  only  clasp  my 
mother's  hand  and  kiss  it  passionately,  without  being  able 
to  utter  a  word. 

"I  neither  wish  to  excite  your  feelings  nor  to  weary 
you,"  said  he,  calmly  ;  "  but  it  is  necessary  that  I  should  tell 
you  we  are  not  rich.     The  fact,  indeed,  may  have  occurred 


278  SIR   JASPER  CAREW. 

to  you  already,"  said  he,  with  a  disdainful  gesture  of  his 
hand,  while  his  eye  ranged  over  the  poverty-stricken  cham- 
ber where  we  sat.  "  Well,"  resumed  he,  "not  being  rich, 
but  poor,  —  so  poor  that  I  have  known  what  it  is  to  feel  hun- 
ger and  thirst  and  cold,  for  actual  want !  Worse  again," 
cried  he,  with  a  wild  and  savage  energy,  "  have  felt  the 
indignity  of  being  scoffed  at  for  my  poverty,  and  seen  the 
liveried  scullions  of  a  great  house  make  jests  upon  my 
threadbare  coat  and  worn  hat !  It  has  been  my  own  choos- 
ing, however,  all  of  it !  "  and  as  he  spoke,  he  arose,  and 
paced  the  room  with  strides  that  made  the  frail  chamber 
tremble  beneath  the  tread. 

"  Dearest  Emile,"  cried  my  mother,  "  let  us  have  no  more 
of  this.  Remember  that  it  is  so  long  since  we  met.  Pray 
keep  these  sad  reflections  for  another  time,  and  let  us  enjoy 
the  happiness  of  being  once  more  together." 

"  I  have  no  time  for  fooling,  madame,"  said  he,  sternly. 
"  I  have  come  a  long  and  weary  journey  about  this  boy.  It 
is  unlikely  that  I  can  afford  to  occupy  myself  with  his  affairs 
again.  Let  him  have  the  benefit — if  benefit  there  be  —  of 
my  coming.  I  would  relieve  you  of  the  burden  of  his  sup- 
port, and  himself  of  the  misery  of  dependence." 

I  started  with  surprise.  It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever 
heard  the  word  with  reference  to  myself,  and  a  sense  of 
shame,  almost  to  sickness,  came  over  me  as  I  stood  there. 

"  Jasper  is  my  child  ;  he  is  all  that  a  son  could  be  to  his 
mother,"  cried  Polly,  clasping  me  in  her  arms,  and  kissing  my 
forehead  ;  and  I  felt  as  if  my  very  heart  was  bursting.  "  Be- 
tween us  there  is  no  question  of  burden  or  independence." 

"  We  live  in  an  age  of  fine  sentiments  and  harsh  actions," 
said  the  Count.  "  I  have  seen  M.  de  Robespierre  shed  tears 
over  a  dead  canary,  and  I  believe  that  he  could  control  his 
feelings  admirably  on  the  Place  de  Greve.  Jasper,  I  see 
that  we  must  finish  this  conversation  when  we  are  alone 
together.     And  now  to  dinner." 

He  assumed  a  half  air  of  gayety  as  he  said  this ;  but  it 
was  unavailing  as  a  means  of  rallying  my  poor  mother, 
whose  tearful  eyes  and  trembling  lips  told  how  sadly  dis- 
pirited she  felt  at  heart. 

I  had  heard  much  from  my  mother  about  the  charms  of 


THE   COUNT  DE   GABRIAC.  279 

the  Count's  conversation,  bis  brilliant  tone,  and  bis  powers 
of  fascination.  It  bad  been  a  favorite  tbeme  with  her  to 
dilate  upon  his  wondrous  agreeability,  and  the  vast  range  of 
his  acquaintance  with  popular  events  and  topics.  She  had 
always  spoken  of  him,  too,  as  one  of  buoyant  spirits,  and 
even  boyish  light-heartedness.  She  had  even  told  me  that 
he  would  be  my  companion,  like  one  of  my  own  age.  With 
what  disappointment,  then,  did  I  find  him  the  very  reverse 
of  all  this !  All  his  views  of  life  savored  of  bitterness  and 
scorn ;  all  his  opinions  were  tinged  with  scepticism  and 
distrust;  he  sneered  at  the  great  world  and  its  vanities,  but 
even  these  he  seemed  to  hold  in  greater  estimation  than  the 
humble  tranquillity  of  our  remote  village.  I  have  him  before 
me  this  instant  as  he  leaned  out  of  the  window  and  looked 
down  the  valley  towards  the  Splugen  Alps.  The  sun  was 
setting,  and  only  the  tops  of  the  very  highest  glaciers  were 
now  touched  with  its  glory  ;  their  peaks  shone  like  burnished 
gold  in  the  sea  of  sky,  azure  and  cloudless.  The  rest  of 
the  landscape  was  softened  down  into  various  degrees  of 
shade,  but  all  sufficiently  distinct  to  display  the  wild  and 
fanciful  outlines  of  cliff  and  crag,  and  the  zigzag  course 
by  which  the  young  Rhine  forced  its  passage  through  the 
rocky  gorge.  Never  had  the  scene  looked  in  greater  beauty, 
—  never  had  every  effect  of  light  and  shadow  been  more 
happily  distributed  ,  and  I  watched  him  with  eagerness  as 
he  gazed  out  upon  a  picture  which  nothing  in  all  Europe 
can  surpass.  His  countenance  for  a  while  remained  calm, 
cold,  and  unmoved ;   but  at  last  he  broke  silence  and  said : 

"  This  it  was,  then,  that  gave  that  dark  coloring  to  all  your 
letters  to  me,  Polly ;  and  I  half  forgive  you  as  I  look  at  it. 
Gloom  and  barbarism  were  never  more  closely  united." 

"Oil,  Emile,  you  surely  see  something  else  in  this  grand 
picture?"  cried  she,  in  a  deprecating  voice. 

"Yes,"  said  he,  slowly,  "I  see  poverty  and  misery; 
half-fed  and  half-clad  shepherds;  figures  of  bandit  rugged- 
ness  and  savagery.  I  see  these,  and  I  feel  that  to  live 
amongst  them,  even  for  a  brief  space,  would  be  to  endure 
a  horrid  nightmare." 

He  moved  away  as  he  spoke,  and  sauntered  slowly  out  of 
the  room,  down  the  stairs,  and  into  the  street. 


280  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

"Follow  him,  Jasper,"  cried  Polly,  eagerly;  "  he  is  dis- 
pirited and  depressed,  —  the  journey  has  fatigued  him,  and 
he  looks  unwell.  Go  with  him ;  but  do  not  speak  till  he 
addresses  you." 

I  did  not  much  fancy  the  duty,  but  I  obeyed  without  a 
word.  He  seemed  to  have  quickened  his  pace  as  he 
descended;  for  when  I  reached  the  street,  I  could  detect 
his  figure  at  some  distance  off  in  the  twilight.  He  walked 
rapidly  on,  and  when  he  arrived  at  the  bridge,  he  stopped, 
and,  leaning  against  the  balustrade,  looked  up  the  valley. 

"  Are  you  weary  of  this,  boy  ?  "  asked  he,  while  he  pointed 
up  the  glen. 

I  shook  my  head  in  dissent. 

"  Not  tired  of  it,"  he  exclaimed,  "  not  heartsick  of  a 
life  of  dreary  monotony,  without  ambition,  without  an  object ! 
When  I  was  scarcely  older  than  you  I  was  a  garde  du  corps  ; 
at  eighteen  I  was  in  the  household,  and  mixing  in  all  the 
splendor  and  gayety  of  Paris ;  before  I  was  twenty  I  fought 
the  Due  de  Valmy  and  wounded  him.  At  the  Longchamps 
of  that  same  year  I  drove  in  the  carriage  with  La  Marquese 
de  Rochvilliers ;  and  all  the  world  knows  what  success  that 
was !  Well,  all  these  things  have  passed  away,  and  now  we 
have  a  republic  and  the  coarse  pleasures  and  coarser  tastes 
of  the  '  canaille.'  Men  like  me  are  not  the  '  mode,'  and  I  am 
too  old  to  conform  to  the  new  school.  But  you  are  not  so ; 
you  must  leave  this,  boy,  —  you  must  enter  the  world,  and  at 
once,  too.  You  shall  come  back  with  me  to  Paris." 
"  And  leave  my  mother?  " 

"  She  is  not  your  mother,  —you  have  no  claim  on  her  as 
such ;  I  am  more  your  relative  than  she  is,  for  your  mother 
was  my  cousin.  But  we  live  in  times  when  these  ties  are 
not  binding.  The  guillotine  loosens  stronger  bonds,  and  the 
whisper  of  the  spy  is  more  efficacious  than  the  law  of 
divorce.  You  must  see  the  capital,  and  know  what  life 
really  is.  Here  you  will  learn  nothing  but  the  antiquated 
prejudices  of  Raper,  or  the  weak  follies  of  — others." 

He  only  spoke  the  last  word  after  a  pause  of  some  seconds, 
and  then  moodily  sank  into  silence. 

I  did  not  venture  to  utter  a  word,  and  waited  patiently 
till  he  resumed,  which  he  did  by  saying,  — 


THE   COUNT  BE   GABRIAC.  281 

"  The  Countess  has  told  you  nothing  of  your  history, — 
nothing  of  your  circumstances?  Well,  you  shall  hear  all 
from  me.  Indeed,  there  are  facts  known  to  me  with  which 
she  is  unacquainted.  For  the  present,  Jasper,  I  will  tell  you 
frankly  that  the  humble  pittance  on  which  she  lives  is  insuffi- 
cient for  the  additional  cost  of  your  support.  I  can  contri- 
bute nothing ;  I  can  be  but  a  burden  myself.  From  herself 
you  would  never  hear  this ;  she  would  go  on  still,  as  she  has 
done  hitherto,  struggling  and  pinching,  battling  with  priva- 
tions, and  living  that  fevered  life  of  combat  that  is  worse 
than  a  thousand  deaths.  Raper,  too,  in  his  own  fashion, 
would  make  sacrifices  for  you ;  but  would  you  endure  the 
thought  of  this?  Does  not  the  very  notion  revolt  against  all 
your  feelings  of  honor  and  manly  independence?  Yes,  boy, 
that  honest  grasp  of  the  hand  assures  me  that  you  think  so ! 
You  must  not,  however,  let  it  appear  that  I  have  confided 
this  fact  to  you.  It  is  a  secret  that  she  would  never  forgive 
my  having  divulged.  The  very  discussion  of  it  has  cost  us 
the  widest  estrangements  we  have  ever  suffered,  and  it  would 
peril  the  continuance  of  our  affection  to  speak  of  it." 

"  I  will  be  secret,"  said  I,  firmly. 

"  Do  so,  boy;  and  remember  that  when  I  speak  of  your 
accompanying  me  to  Paris,  you  express  your  wish  to  see  the 
capital  and  its  brilliant  pleasures.  Show,  if  not  weary  of 
this  dreary  existence  here,  that  you  at  least  are  not  dead  to 
all  higher  and  nobler  ambitions.  Question  me  about  the  life 
of  the  great  world,  and  in  your  words  and  questions  exhibit 
the  interest  the  theme  suggests.  I  have  my  own  plan  for 
your  advancement,  of  which  you  shall  hear  later." 

He  seemed  to  expect  that  I  would  show  some  curiosity 
regarding  the  future,  but  my  thoughts  were  all  too  busy  with 
the  present.  They  were  all  turned  to  that  home  I  was  about 
to  leave,  to  the  fond  mother  I  was  to  part  from,  to  honest 
Joseph  himself,  — my  guide,  my  friend,  and  my  companion; 
and  for  what?  An  unknown  sea,  upon  which  I  was  to  adven- 
ture without  enterprise  or  enthusiasm. 

The  Count  continued  to  talk  of  Paris  and  his  various 
friends  there,  with  whom  he  assured  me  I  should  be  a 
favorite.  He  pictured  the  life  of  the  great  city  in  all  its 
brightest  colors.     He  mentioned    the  names   of   many  who 


282  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

had  entered  it  as  unknown  and  friendless  as  myself,  and  yet, 
in  a  few  years,  had  won  their  way  up  to  high  distinction. 
There  was  a  vagueness  in  all  this  which  did  not  satisfy  rne ; 
but  I  was  too  deeply  occupied  with  other  thoughts  to  ques- 
tion or  cavil  at  what  he  said. 

When  we  went  back  to  supper,  Raper  was  there  to  pay  his 
respects  to  the  Count.  De  Gabriac  received  his  respectful 
compliments  coldly  and  haughtily ;  he  even  interrupted  the 
little  address  poor  Joseph  had  so  carefully  studied  and  com- 
mitted to  memory,  by  asking  if  he  still  continued  to  bewilder 
his  faculties  with  Greek  particles  and  obsolete  dialects ;  and 
then,  without  waiting  for  his  reply,  he  seated  himself  at  the 
table,  and  arranged  his  napkin. 

"Master  Joseph,"  said  he,  half  sarcastically,  "the  world 
has  been  pleased  to  outlive  these  follies ;  they  have  come  to 
the  wise  resolve  that,  when  languages  are  dead,  they  ought 
to  be  buried ;  and  they  have  little  sympathy  with  those  who 
wish  to  resuscitate  and  disinter  them." 

"It  is  but  an  abuse  of  terms  to  call  them  dead,  Count," 
replied  Joseph.  "  Truth,  in  whatever  tongue  it  be  syllabled, 
does  not  die.  Fidelity  to  nature  in  our  age  will  be  acknowl- 
edged as  correct  in  centuries  after." 

"  Our  own  time  gives  us  as  good  models,  and  with  less 
trouble  to  look  for  them,"  said  the  Count,  flippantly.  "  Your 
dreamy  bookworm  is  too  prone  to  delve  in  the  earth,  and 
not  to  coin  the  ore  that  he  has  discovered.  Take  Jasper 
there  :  you  have  taught  him  diligently  and  patiently ;  I  '11  be 
sworn  you  have  neglected  him  in  nothing,  so  far  as  your  own 
knowledge  went;  and  yet,  before  he  shall  have  been  three 
months  in  Paris,  he  will  look  upon  you,  his  master,  as  an 
infant.  The  interval  between  you  will  be  wide  as  the  broad 
Atlantic ;  and  the  obstacles  and  crosses,  to  overcome  which 
will  be  with  him  the  work  of  a  second,  would  be  to  you  diffi- 
culties insurmountable." 

"  To  Paris!  Jasper  go  to  Paris!  "  exclaimed  my  mother, 
as  she  grew  deadly  pale. 

"  Jasper  leave  us !  "  cried  Raper,  in  a  tone  of  terror. 

"And  why  not?"  replied  the  Count.  "Is  it  here  you 
would  have  him  waste  the  best  years  of  youth?  Is  it  in 
the  wild  barbarism  of  this  dreary  valley  that  he  will  catch 


THE   COUNT  DE  GABRIAC.  283 

glimpses  of  the  prizes  for  which  men  struggle  and  contend  ? 
The  boy  himself  has  higher  and  nobler  instincts ;  he  feels 
that  this  is  but  the  sluggish  existence  of  a  mere  peasant, 
and  that  yonder  is  the  tournament  where  knights  are 
jousting." 

"And  you  wish  to  leave  us,  Jasper?"  cried  my  mother, 
with  a  quivering  lip,  and  a  terrible  expression  of  anxiety  in 
her  features. 

"  To  forsake  your  home  !  "  muttered  Raper. 

"Ask  himself;  let  him  be  as  frank  with  you  as  he  was 
half-an-hour  ago  with  me,  and  you  will  know  the  truth." 

"  Oh,  Jasper,  speak  !  —  leave  me  not  in  this  dreadful  sus- 
pense !  "  cried  my  mother;  "  for  in  all  my  troubles  I  never 
pictured  to  my  mind  this  calamity." 

"  No,  no  !  "  said  Raper ;  "  the  boy  's  nature  has  no  dupli- 
city. —  he  never  thought  of  this  !  " 

"  Ask  him,  I  say,"  cried  the  Count;  "  ask  him  if  he  wish 
not  to  accompany  me  to  Paris." 

I  could  bear  no  longer  the  power  of  the  gaze  that  I  felt 
was  fixed  upon  me,  but,  falling  at  her  feet,  I  hid  nry  face  in 
her  lap,  and  cried  bitterly.  My  heart  was  actually  bursting 
with  the  fulness  of  sorrow,  and  I  sobbed  myself  to  sleep, 
still  weeping  through  my  dreams,  and  shedding  hot  tears  as 
I  slumbered. 

My  dream  is  more  graven  on  my  memory  than  the  events 
which  followed  my  awaking.  I  could  recount  the  strange 
and  incoherent  fancies  which  chased  each  other  through  my 
brain  on  that  night,  and  yet  not  tell  the  actual  occurrences  of 
the  following  day. 

I  do  remember  something  of  sitting  beside  my  mother, 
with  my  hand  locked  in  hers,  and  feeling  the  wet  cheek  that 
from  time  to  time  was  pressed  against  my  own  ;  of  the  soft 
hand  as  it  parted  the  hair  upon  my  forehead,  and  the  burn- 
ing kiss  that  seemed  to  sear  it.  Passages  of  intense  emotion 
—  how  caused  I  know  not  —  are  graven  in  my  mind  ;  mem- 
ories of  a  grief  that  seemed  to  wrench  the  heart  with  present 
suffering,  and  cast  shadows  of  darkest  meaning  on  the  future. 
Oh,  no,  no! — the  sorrows  —  if  they  be  indeed  sorrows  — 
of  childhood  are  not  short-lived  ;  they  mould  the  affections, 
and  dispose  them  in  a  fashion  that  endures  for  many  a  year 
to  come. 


284  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

While  I  recall  to  mind  these  afflictions,  of  the  actual  events 
of  my  last  hours  at  Reichenau  I  can  relate  but  the  very 
slightest  traits.  I  do  remember  poor  Raper  storing  my  little 
portmanteau  with  some  of  the  last  few  volumes  that  remained 
to  him  of  his  little  store  of  books ;  of  my  mother  showing 
me  a  secret  pocket  of  the  trunk,  not  to  be  opened  save 
when  some  emergency  or  difficulty  had  presented  itself; 
of  my  astonishment  at  the  number  of  things  provided  for 
my  use,  and  the  appliances  of  comfort  and  convenience 
which  were  placed  at  my  disposal ;  and  then,  more  forcibly 
than  all  else,  of  the  contemptuous  scorn  with  which  the 
Count  surveyed  the  preparation,  and  asked  "if  my  ward 
robe  contained  nothing  better  than  these  rags?" 

Of  the  last  sad  moment  of  parting,  —the  agony  of  my 
mother's  grief  as  she  clasped  me  in  her  arms,  till  I  was  torn 
away  by  force,  and  with  my  swimming  faculties  I  thought 
to  have  seen  her  fall  fainting  to  the  ground, —  of  these  I  will 
not  speak,  for  I  dare  not,  even  now ! 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

PARIS    IN    '95. 

Our  journey  was  a  dreary  and  wearisome  one.  The  dili- 
gence travelled  slowly,  and  as  the  weather  was  dull  and 
rainy,  the  road  presented  nothing  of  interest,  at  least  of 
interest  sufficient  to  combat  the  grief  that  still  oppressed 
me.  We  were  upwards  of  a  week  travelling  before  we 
reached  Paris,  which  I  own  presented  a  very  different  aspect 
from  what  my  ardent  imagination  had  depicted.  The  nar- 
row streets  were  scarcely  lighted,  —  it  was  night,  —  the 
houses  seemed  poor  and  mean  and  dilapidated,  the  inhabi- 
tants rude-looking  and  ill-dressed.  The  women  especially 
were  ill-favored,  and  with  an  air  of  savage  daring  and 
effrontery  I  had  never  seen  before.  Gangs  of  both  sexes 
patrolled  the  streets,  shouting  in  wild  chorus  some  popular 
chant  of  the  time ;  and  as  the  diligence  did  not  venture  to 
pierce  these  crowds,  we  were  frequently  delayed  in  our 
progress  to  the  "  bureau,"  which  was  held  in  the  Rue  Didier 
of  the  Battignolles ;  for  it  was  in  that  unfashionable  quarter 
in  which  my  first  impressions  of  the  capital  were  conceived. 

"  Remember,  boy,  I  am  no  longer  a  Count  here,"  said  my 
companion,  as  we  got  out  of  the  conveyance,  "  I  am  the 
citizen  Gabriac ;  and  be  careful  that  you  never  forget  it. 
Take  that  portmanteau  on  your  shoulder,  and  follow  me  !  " 

"We  treaded  a  vast  number  of  streets  and  alleys,  all  alike 
wretched  and  gloomy,  till  we  entered  a  little  "  Place  "  which 
formed  a  "  cul  de  sac  "  at  the  end  of  a  narrow  lane,  and 
was  lighted  by  a  single  lantern,  suspended  from  a  pole  in 
the  centre.  This  was  called  the  Place  de  Trieze,  in  memory, 
as  I  afterwards  learned,  of  thirteen  assassins  who  had  once 
lived  there,  and  been  for  years  the  terror  of  the  capital.  It 
was  now  but  scantily  tenanted,   oone  of  the  rooms  on  the 


286  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

ground-floor  being  inhabited  at  all ;  and  in  some  instances 
an  entire  house  having  but  one  or  two  occupants.  The 
superstitious  terrors  that  were  rife  about  it  (and  there  were 
abundance  of  ghost  stories  in  vogue)  could  scarcely  account 
for  this  desertion,  for  assuredly  the  fears  of  a  spiritual 
world  could  not  have  proved  formidable  to  the  class  who 
frequented  it ;  but  an  impression  had  got  abroad  that  it 
was  a  favorite  resort  of  the  spies  of  the  police,  who  often 
tracked  the  victims  to  this  quarter,  or  at  least  here  obtained 
information  of  their  whereabouts.  Plague  itself  would  have 
been  a  preferable  reputation  to  such  a  report,  and  accord- 
ingly few  but  the  very  poorest  and  most  destitute  would 
accept  the  shelter  of  this  ill-omened  spot. 

A  single  light,  twinkling  like  a  faint  star,  showed  through 
the  gloom  as  we  entered,  where  some  watcher  yet  sat ;  but 
all  the  rest  of  the  "Place"  was  in  darkness.  Gabriac 
threw  some  light  gravel  at  the  window,  which  was  imme- 
diately opened,  and  a  head  enveloped  in  a  kerchief,  by  way 
of  nightcap,  appeared. 

"  It  is  I,  Pierre,"  cried  he;  "  come  down  and  unbar  the 
door !  " 

"Ma  foi,"  said  the  other,  "that  is  unnecessary.  The 
commissaire  broke  it  down  yesterday,  searching  for  '  Tor- 
chon,' and  the  last  fragment  cooked  my  dinner  to-day." 

"  And  Torchon,  did  they  catch  him?  " 

"No,  he  escaped,  but  only  to  reach  the  Pont  Neuf, 
where  he  threw  himself  over  the  balustrade  into  the  river." 

"  And  was  drowned?  " 

"  Doubtless,  he  was." 

"I  scarcely  regret  him,"  said  Gabriac. 

"And  I  not  at  all,"  replied  the  other.  Good  night;" 
and  with  this  he  closed  the  window,  leaving  us  to  find  our 
way  as  best  we  could. 

I  followed  Gabriac  as  he  slowly  groped  his  way  up  the 
stairs  and  reached  a  door  on  the  third  story,  of  which  he 
produced  the  key.  He  struck  a  light  as  he  passed  in,  and 
lighted  a  small  lamp,  by  which  I  was  enabled  to  see  the 
details  of  a  chamber  poorer  and  more  miserable  than  any- 
thing I  had  ever  conceived.  A  board  laid  upon  two  chairs 
served  for  a  table,  and  some  wood-shavings,  partially  cov- 


PARIS  IN  '95.  287 

ered  by  a  blanket,  formed  a  bed ;  a  couple  of  earthenware 
pipkins  comprised  the  cooking  utensils,  and  a  leaden  basin 
supplied  the  provisions  for  the  toilet. 

••Lie  down  there  and  take  a  sleep,  Jasper,  for  I  have 
no  supper  for  you,"  said  Gabriac ;  but  his  voice  had  a 
touch  of  compassionate  gentleness  in  it  which  I  heard  for 
the  first  time. 

"  And  you,  sir,"  said  I,  "  have  you  no  bed?  " 

"  I  have  no  need  of  one.  I  have  occupation  that  will 
not  admit  of  sleep,"  said  he.  "And  now,  boy,  once  for 
all,  never  question  me,  nor  ask  the  reasons  of  what  may 
seem  strange  or  odd  to  you.  Your  own  faculties  must 
explain  whatever  requires  explaining  —  or  else  you  must 
remain  in  ignorance ;  "  and  with  these  words  he  passed  into 
an  inner  chamber,  from  which  he  speedily  issued  forth  to 
descend  the  stairs  into  the  street,  leaving  me  alone  to  my 
slumbers.  And  they  were  heavy  and  dreamless  ones,  for 
I  was  thoroughly  wearied  and  worn  out  by  the  road. 

I  was  still  asleep,  and  so  soundly  that  I  resisted  all 
efforts  to  awake  me  till  a  strong  shake  effectually  succeeded, 
and,  on  looking  up,  I  saw  Gabriac  standing  by  my  side. 

"  Get  up,  boy,  and  dress.  These  are  your  clothes,"  said 
he,  pointing  to  a  uniform  of  dark  green  and  black,  with 
a  sword-belt  of  black  leather,  from  which  hung  a  short, 
broad-bladed  weapon.  The  dress  was  without  any  richness, 
still  a  becoming  one,  and  I  put  it  on  without  reluctance. 

"  Am  I  to  be  a  soldier,  then?  "  asked  I,  in  half  shame  at 
disobeying  his  injunction  of  the  night  before. 

"  All  Paris,  all  France,  is  arrayed  at  one  side  or  the 
other  just  now,  Jasper,"  said  he,  as  he  busied  himself  in 
the  preparation  of  our  coffee.  "  The  men  who  have  ruled 
the  nation  by  the  guillotine  have  exhausted  its  patience  at 
last.  A  spirit,  if  not  of  resistance,  of  at  least  self-defence, 
has  arisen,  and  the  little  that  remains  of  birth  and  blood 
amongst  us  has  associated  with  the  remnant  of  property 
to  crush  the  hell-hounds  that  live  by  carnage.  One  of 
these  bands  is  called  the  battalion  of  '  La  Jeunesse  Don't.' 
and  into  this  I  have  obtained  your  admission.  Meanwhile, 
you  will  be  attached  to  the  staff  of  General  Danitan,  who 
will    employ   you    in    the    'secretariat'    of    his   command. 


288  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

Remember,  boy,  your  tale  is,  you  are  the  sou  of  parents 
that  have  died  on  the  scaffold.  You  are  the  nephew  of 
P^mile  de  Gabriac,  brother  of  Jules  Louis  de  Gabriac,  your 
father,  whom  you  cannot  remember.  Your  life  in  Switzer- 
land you  can  speak  of  with  safety.  You  will  not  talk  of 
these  matters  save  to  the  General,  and  to  him  only  if 
questioned  about  them." 

"  But  is  this  disguise  necessary,  sir?  May  I  not  assume 
the  name  I  have  a  right  to,  and  accept  the  fate  that  would 
follow  it?" 

"The  guillotine,"  added  he,  sarcastically.  "Are  you  so 
ignorant,  child,  as  not  to  know  that  England  and  France 
are  at  war,  and  that  your  nationality  would  be  your  con- 
demnation? Follow  my  guidance  or  your  own,"  said  he, 
sternly,  "  but  do  not  seek  to  weld  the  counsels  together." 

"  But  may  I  not  know  in  what  service  I  am  enrolled?  " 

"Later  on,  when  you  can  understand  it,"  was  the  cold 
reply. 

"  I  am  not  so  ignorant,"  said  I,  taking  courage,  "  as  not 
to  be  aware  of  what  has  happened  of  late  years  in  France. 
I  know  that  the  king  has  been  executed." 

"  Murdered  !  — martyred  !  "  broke  in  Gabriac. 

"  And  monarchy  abolished." 

"  Suspended  —  interrupted,"  added  he,  in  the  same  voice. 
"  But  I  will  not  discuss  these  matters  with  you.  When  you 
have  eaten  your  breakfast,  take  that  letter  to  the  address  in 
the  Rue  Lepelletier,  see  the  General,  and  speak  with  him. 
As  you  go  along  the  streets  you  will  not  fail  to  meet  many 
of  those  to  whom  your  duty  will  at  some  later  period  place 
you  in  opposition.  If  they  by  look,  by  dress,  by  bearing 
and  manner  captivate  your  imagination  and  seduce  your 
allegiance  to  their  ranks,  tear  off  your  colors  then,  and  join 
them,  boy ;  the  choice  is  open  to  you.  My  charge  is  then 
ended ;  we  are  not,  nor  ever  can  be,  aught  to  each  other 
again." 

I  saw  that  he  would  not  be  questioned  by  me,  and,  for- 
bearing at  once,  from  the  risk  of  offending  him,  I  ate  my 
meal  in  silence. 

"I  am  ready  now,  sir,"  said  I,  standing  up  in  front 
of  him. 


PARIS   IN   '95.  289 

He  wheeled  me  round  by  the  arm  to  look  at  me  in  my  new 
dress.  He  adjusted  my  belt,  and  arranged  my  sword-knot 
more  becomingly,  muttering  to  himself  a  few  words  of 
approval  at  my  appearance,  and  then  said  aloud,  — 

"  Salute  all  whom  you  see  in  this  uniform,  boy,  and  bear 
yourself  haughtily  as  you  pass  the  'canaille.'  Remember 
that  between  you  and  them  must  be  the  struggle  at  last,  and 
show  that  you  do  not  blink  it." 

He  patted  me  good-naturedly  on  the  shoulder  as  he  said 
this,  and,  with  the  word  "  Go,"  half-pushed  me  from  the 
room. 

I  soon  found  myself  in  the  open  air,  and,  having  inquired 
my  way  to  the  Rue  Lepelletier,  walked  rapidly  along,  en- 
deavoring, as  best  I  might,  to  disguise  the  astonishment  I 
felt  at  so  many  new  and  wonderful  objects.  As  I  emerged 
from  the  meaner  quarter  of  the  Battignolles,  the  streets  grew 
finer  and  more  spacious,  and  the  dress  of  the  people  and  their 
appearance  generally  improved  also.  Still,  there  was  none 
of  that  splendor  of  equipage  of  which  I  had  heard  so  much. 
The  carriages  were  few,  and  neither  rich  nor  well-appointed. 
The  horses  were  poor-looking,  and  seemed  all  over-worked 
and  exhausted.  The  same  tired  and  worn-out  air  pervaded 
the  people  too.  They  all  looked  as  though  fatigue  and  ex- 
citement had  finally  conquered  them,  and  that  they  were  no 
longer  capable  of  endurance.  At  the  bakers'  shops  that  I 
passed,  great  crowds  were  assembled,  waiting  for  the  dis- 
tribution of  bread  which  the  Government  each  morning  doled 
out  to  the  population.  I  watched  these,  and  saw,  to  my 
amazement,  that  the  ration  was  a  small  piece  of  black  and 
coarse  bread,  weighing  two  ounces,  and  for  this  many  were 
content  to  wait  patiently  the  entire  day.  In  my  curiosity  to 
see  this,  I  had  approached  an  old  man  of  a  strong,  athletic 
appearance,  who,  leaning  on  his  staff,  made  no  effort  to 
pierce  the  crowd,  but  waited  calmly  till  his  name  was  called 
aloud,  and  even  then  received  his  pittance  as  it  was  passed 
to  him  from  hand  to  hand.  There  was  something  of  dignity 
in  the  way  lie  subdued  every  trace  of  that  anxious  impatience 
so  perceptible  around  him,  and  I  drew  nigh  to  speak  to  him. 
with  a  sense  of  respect. 

"  Is  that  meant  for  a  day's  subsistence?  "  asked  I. 

19 


290  SIR  JASPER  CAREW 

He  stared  at  me  calmly  for  a  few  seconds,  but  made  no 
reply. 

"  I  asked  the  question,"  began  I,  with  an  attempt  to 
apologize,  when  he  interrupted  me  thus :  — 

"Are  you  one  of  the  Troupe  Doree,  and  ask  this?  Is  it 
from  you,  who  live  in  fine  houses  and  eat  sumptuously,  that 
comes  the  inquiry,  how  men  like  me  exist?" 

"I  am  newly  come  to  Paris ;  I  am  only  a  few  hours 
here." 

"  See  here,  comrades,"  cried  the  old  man,  in  a  loud  and 
ringing  voice  to  the  crowd,  "mark  what  the  'Sections' 
are  doing :  drafting  the  peasants  from  the  Provinces,  dress- 
ing them  in  their  livery,  and  arming  them  to  slaughter 
us.  Starvation  marches  too  slowly  for  the  wishes  of  these 
aristocrats !  " 

"Down  with  the  '  aristos,'  down  with  the  'Troupe!'" 
broke  in  one  wild  yell  from  the  multitude,  who  turned  at 
once  towards  me  with  looks  of  menace. 

"  Ay,"  continued  the  old  man,  waving  his  hand  to  main- 
tain silence,  "he  dared  to  taunt  me  with  the  pittance  we 
receive,  and  to  scoff  at  our  mendicancy  !  " 

"  Down  with  him !  down  with  him  !  "  cried  the  crowd  ;  but, 
interposing  his  staff  like  a  barrier  against  the  mob,  the  old 
fellow  said,  — 

"Spare  him,  comrades;  he  is,  as  you  see,  only  a  boy; 
let  him  live  to  be  wiser  and  better.  Come,  lad,  break  that 
sword  upon  your  knee,  tear  off  that  green  cockade,  and  go 
back  to  your  village  again !  " 

I  stepped  back,  and,  drawing  my  sword,  motioned  to 
those  in  front  to  give  way. 

"  I  '11  cut  down  the  first  that  opposes  me !  "  cried  I,  with 
a  wave  of  the  steel  round  my  head ;  and  at  the  same  instant 
I  dashed  forward. 

The  mass  fell  back,  and  left  me  a  free  passage,  while  a 
chorus  of  the  wildest  yells  and  screams  burst  around  and 
about  me.  Mad  with  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  I  shook 
my  sword  at  them  as  I  went,  in  defiance,  and  even  laughed 
my  scorn  of  their  cowardice.  My  triumph  was  brief;  a 
stunning  blow  on  the  back  of  the  head  sent  me  reeling  for- 
wards, and  at  the  same  instant  the  ranks  of  the  mob  closed 


PARIS    IN   '95.  291 

in,  and,  hurling  me  to  the  ground,  trampled  and  jumped  upon 
me.  Stunned,  but  not  unconscious,  I  could  perceive  that 
a  battle  was  waged  over  me,  in  which  my  own  fate  was 
forgotten,  for  the  multitude  passed  and  repassed  my  body 
without  inflicting  other  injury  than  their  foot-treads.  Even 
this  was  brief,  too,  and  I  was  speedily  raised  from  the 
earth,  and  saw  myself  in  the  arms  of  two  young  men  in 
uniform  like  my  own.  One  of  them  was  bleeding  from  a 
wound  in  the  temple,  but  seemed  only  to  think  of  me  and 
my  injuries.  We  were  soon  joined  by  several  others  of  the 
troop,  who,  having  returned  from  a  pursuit  of  the  mob,  now 
pressed  around  me  with  kindest  questions  and  inquiries. 
My  name,  whence  I  came,  and  how  long  I  had  been  in 
Paris,  were  all  asked  of  me  in  a  breath ;  while  others,  more 
considerate  still,  sought  to  ascertain  if  I  had  been  wounded 
in  the  late  scuffle.  Except  in  some  bruises,  and  even  those 
not  severe,  I  had  suffered  nothing ;  and  when  my  clothes 
were  brushed,  and  shako  readjusted,  and  a  new  cockade 
affixed  to  it,  I  was  as  well  as  ever.  From  the  kind  atten- 
tions we  met  with  in  the  shops,  and  the  sympathy  which  the 
better-dressed  people  displayed  towards  us,  I  soon  gathered 
that  the  conflict  was  indeed  one  between  two  classes  of  the 
population,  and  that  the  Troupe  were  the  champions  of 
property. 

"  Show  him  the  Rue  Lepelletier,  Guillaume,"  said  an 
officer  to  one  of  the  youths ;  and  a  boy  somewhat  older  than 
myself  now  undertook  to  be  my  guide. 

I  had  some  difficulty  in  answering  his  questions  as  to  the 
names  and  the  number  of  my  family  who  were  guillotined, 
and  when  and  where  the  execution  had  occurred  ;  but  I  was 
spared  any  excessive  strain  on  my  imagination  by  the  pal- 
pable indifference  my  companion  exhibited  to  a  theme  now 
monstrously  tiresome.  He,  however,  was  communicative 
enough  on  the  subject  of  the  Troupe  and  their  duties,  which 
he  told  me  were  daily  becoming  rnore  onerous.  The  Gov- 
ernment, harassed  by  the  opposition  of  the  National  Guards 
and  the  Jeunesse  Doree  together,  had  resorted  to  the  ter- 
rible expedient  of  releasing  above  a  thousand  prisoners  from 
the  galleys ;  and  these,  he  assured  me,  were  now  on  their 
way  to   Paris,   to    be  armed  and   formed  into  a  regiment. 


292  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

Though  he  told  this  with  a  natural  horror,  he  still  spoke  of 
his  own  party  with  every  confidence.  They  comprised,  he 
said,  the  courage,  the  property,  and  the  loyalty  of  France. 
The  whole  nation  looked  to  them  as  the  last  stay  and  succor, 
and  felt  that  the  hope  of  the  country  was  in  their  keeping. 

I  asked  him  what  was  the  number  now  enrolled  in  the 
Troupe?  and,  to  my  astonishment,  he  could  not  tell  me. 
In  fact,  he  owned  that  many  had  of  late  assumed  the  uni- 
form as  spies,  and  General  Danitan  had  resolved  that  each 
volunteer  should  present  himself  to  him  for  acceptance 
before  receiving  any  charge,  or  being  appointed  to  any 
guard. 

I  had  not  time  for  further  questioning,  when  we  arrived 
at  the  hotel  of  the  general,  when  my  companion,  having 
given  me  full  directions  for  my  guidance,  shook  my  hand 
cordially,  and  departed. 

As  I  ascended  the  stairs  I  overtook  an  elderly  gentleman 
in  a  gray  military  frock,  who  was  slowly  making  his  way 
upwards  by  the  aid  of  the  balustrade. 

"  Give  me  your  arm,  lad,"  said  he,  "  for  this  stair  seems 
to  grow  steeper  every  day.  Thanks ;  now  I  shall  get  on 
better.     What  has  torn  your  coat-sleeve?  " 

I  told  him  in  a  few  words  what  had  just  occurred  in  the 
streets,  and  he  listened  to  me  with  a  degree  of  interest  that 
somewhat  surprised  me. 

"  Come  along,  my  lad.  Let  General  Danitan  hear  this 
from  your  own  lips ;  "  and  with  an  agility  that  I  could  not 
have  believed  him  capable  of,  he  hurried  up  the  stairs,  and, 
crossing  a  kind  of  gallery  crowded  with  officers  of  different 
grades,  he  entered  a  chamber  where  two  persons  in  military 
undress  were  writing. 

"  Can  I  see  the  general,  Francois?"  said  he,  abruptly. 

The  officer  thus  addressed,  coolly  replied  that  he  believed 
not,  and  went  on  with  his  writing  as  before. 

"But  I  have  something  important  to  say  to  him, — my 
business  is  of  consequence,"  said  he. 

"As  it  always  is,"  muttered  the  other,  in  a  tone  of  sar- 
casm that  fortunately  was  only  overheard  by  mj'self. 

"You  will  announce  me,  then,  Francois?  "  continued  he. 

"  My  orders  are  not  to  admit  any  one,  Captain." 


PARIS   IN   '95.  293 

"  They  were  never  meant  to  include  me,  sir, —  of  that  I  'm 
positive,"  said  the  old  man  ;  "  and  if  you  will  not  announce 
me,  I  will  enter  without  it ;  "  and,  half  dragging  me  by  the 
arm,  he  moved  forward,  opened  the  door,  and  passed  into 
an  inner  room. 

General  Danitan,  a  small,  dark-eyed,  severe-looking  man, 
was  standing  with  his  back  to  the  fire,  and  in  the  act  of 
dictating  to  a  secretary,  as  we  entered.  An  expression  of 
angry  impatience  at  our  unauthorized  appearance  was  the 
only  return  he  vouchsafed  to  our  salute ;  and  he  continued 
his  dictation,  as  before. 

"Don't  interrupt  me,  sir,"  said  he,  hastily,  as  the  old 
captain  made  an  effort  to  address  him.  "  Don't  interrupt 
me,  sir.  —  '  Which  difficulties,'  "  continued  he,  as  he  took 
up  the  thread  of  his  dictation,  —  "  '  which  difficulties  are  con- 
siderably increased  by  the  obtrusive  habit  of  tendering  advice 
by  persons  in  whose  judgment  I  place  no  reliance,  and  whose 
conduct,  when  they  leave  me,  is  open  to  the  suspicion  of 
being  prejudicial  to  the  public  service.  Amongst  such 
offenders  the  chief  is  a  retired  captain  of  the  8th  regiment  of 
Chasseurs,  called  Hugues  Le  Bart  —  '  " 

"  Why,  General,  it  is  of  me  —  me  myself  —  you  are  speak- 
ing !  "  broke  in  the  captain. 

"  '  An  officer,' "  continued  the  other,  perfectly  heedless  of 
the  interruption,  "'  into  whose  past  services  I  would  stren- 
uously recommend  some  inquiry ;  since  neither  from  the 
information  which  has  reached  me  with  regard  to  his  habits, 
nor  from  the  characters  of  his  intimates,  am  I  disposed  to 
regard  him  as  well  affected  to  the  Government,  or  in  other 
respects  trustworthy.'  How  do  you  do,  Captain?  Who  is 
our  young  friend  here?"  continued  he,  with  a  smile  and  a 
bow  towards  us. 

"  In  what  way  am  I  to  understand  this,  General?  Is  it 
meant  for  a  piece  of  coarse  pleasantry  —  " 

"  For  nothing  of  the  kind,  sir,"  interrupted  the  other, 
sternly.  "  That  you  have  been  a  witness  to  the  words  of  a 
confidential  communication  is  entirely  attributable  to  your- 
self; find  I  have  only  to  hope  you  will  respect  the  confidence 
of  which  an  accident  baa  made  you  a  participator.  Mean- 
while, I  desire  to  be  alone." 


294  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

The  manner  in  which  these  words  were  uttered  was  too 
decisive  for  hesitation,  and  the  old  man  bowed  submissively 
and  withdrew.  As  I  was  about  to  follow  him,  the  general 
called  out,  — 

"  Stay  :  a  word  with  you.  Are  you  the  captain's  protege, 
boy?" 

I  told  him  that  our  first  meeting  only  dated  a  few  moments 
back,  and  how  it  had  occurred. 

"Then  you  are  not  of  the  *  Troupe'?  You  have  never 
worn  the  uniform  till  this  morning?"  said  he,  somewhat 
severely. 

I  bowed  assent. 

He  turned  hastily  about  at  the  moment,  and  said  something 
to  his  secretary  in  a  low  voice,  of  which  I  just  could  catch  the 
concluding  words,  which  were  far  from  flattering  to  the  corps 
in  whose  livery  I  was  dressed. 

"  Well,  boy,  go  back  and  take  off  those  clothes,"  said  he, 
sternly;  "resume  your  trade  or  occupation,  whatever  it  be, 
and  leave  politics  and  state  affairs  to  those  who  can  under- 
stand them.     Tell  your  father  —  " 

"  I  have  none,  sir." 

"  Your  mother,  then,  or  your  friends,  I  care  not  what  they 
be.  What  letter  is  that  you  are  crumpling  in  your  fingers?" 
broke  he  in,  suddenly. 

"  To  General  Danitan,  sir." 

"  Give  it  me,"  said  he,  half  snatching  it  from  me. 

He  tore  it  hastily  open  and  read  it,  occasionally  looking 
from  the  paper  to  myself,  as  he  went  on.  He  then  leaned 
over  the  table  where  the  secretary  sat,  and  showed  him  the 
letter.  They  conversed  eagerly  for  some  seconds  together, 
and  then  the  general  said,  — 

"Your  friends  have  recommended  you  for  a  post  in  the 
'  chancellerie  militaire' :   is  that  your  liking,  lad?" 

' '  I  should  be  proud  to  think  myself  capable  of  doing  any- 
thing for  my  own  support,"  was  my  answer. 

"  D'Artans,  see  to  him;  let  him  be  enrolled  as  a  super- 
numerary, and  lodged  with  the  others.  —  This  gentleman  will 
instruct  you  in  your  duty,"  added  he  to  me,  while,  with  a 
slight  nod  towards  the  door,  he  motioned  me  to  withdraw. 

I  retired  at  once  to  the  antechamber,  where  I  sat  down  to 


PARIS  LNT  '95.  295 

think  over  my  future  prospects,  aud  canvass  in  my  mind  my 
strange  situation. 

Troops  of  officers  in  full  and  half  dress,  orderlies  with 
despatches,  aides-de-camp  in  hot  haste,  came  and  went 
through  that  room  for  hours ;  and  yet  there  I  sat,  unnoticed 
and  unrecognized  by  any,  till  I  began  to  feel  in  my  isola- 
tion a  sense  of  desertion  and  loneliness  I  had  never  known 
before. 

It  was  already  evening  when  D'Artans  joined  me,  and 
taking  my  arm  familiarly  within  his  own,  said,  — 

"  Come  along,  Jasper,  and  let  us  dine  together." 

The  sound  of  my  own  name  so  overcame  me  that  I  could 
scarcely  restrain  my  tears  as  I  heard  it.  It  was  a  memory 
of  home  and  the  past  too  touching  to  be  resisted ! 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE    BATTLE    OF    THE    SECTIONS. 

There  could  not  have  been  a  readier  process  of  disenchant- 
ment to  me,  as  to  all  my  boyish  ambitions  and  hopes,  than 
the  routine  of  my  daily  life  at  this  period.  I  was  lodged, 
with  some  fourteen  others,  in  an  old  Pension  in  the  Rue 
des  Augustines,  adjoining  the  bureau  in  which  we  were  em- 
ployed. We  repaired  each  morning  at  an  early  hour  to  our 
office,  and  never  left  it  till  late  in  the  evening,  —  sometimes, 
indeed,  to  a  late  hour  of  the  night.  Neither  the  manners 
nor  the  habits  of  my  companions  inspired  me  with  a  desire 
to  cultivate  their  intimacy.  They  were  evidently  of  a  low 
class  by  birth,  and  with  tastes  even  inferior  to  their  posi- 
tion. They  construed  my  estrangement  to  the  true  cause, 
and  did  not  scruple  to  show  that  I  was  not  a  favorite 
amongst  them.  In  ridicule  of  my  seeming  pretensions,  they 
called  me  the  "  Count,"  and  never  passed  me  without  an  ob- 
sequious mock  salutation,  which  I  returned  as  punctiliously, 
and  not  appearing  to  detect  its  sarcasm.  With  experience 
of  life  and  mankind,  isolation  is  probably  a  condition  not 
devoid  of  certain  pleasures,  —  it  may  minister  to  a  kind  of 
proud  self-reliance  and  independence  of  spirit ;  but  to  a  boy 
it  is  one  of  unalloyed  misery.  There  is  no  heavier  inflic- 
tion than  the  want  of  that  free  expansion  of  the  heart  that 
comes  of  early  friendship.  Youth  is  essentially  the  season 
of  confidence ;  and  to  restrain  its  warm  impulses,  and  dam 
up  the  flow  of  its  affections,  is  to  destroy  its  best  and  high- 
est charm.  I  will  not  venture  to  assert  that  I  was  not 
myself  much  to  blame  foi  the  seclusion  in  which  I  lived. 
I  probably  resented  too  forcibly  what  I  need  scarcely  have 
noticed,  and  felt  too  acutely  what,  at  worst,  were  but  trifling 
annoyances.     Some  of  this  may  be  attributed  to  me  con- 


THE  BATTLE   OF  THE  SECTIONS.  297 

stitutionally,  but  even  more  to  the  nature  of  my  bringing 
up.  All  my  boyish  impulses  were  stimulated  by  affection ; 
whatever  I  attempted  was  in  a  wish  to  gain  praise ;  all  my 
ambitions  were  to  be  loved  the  more.  In  my  loneliness  I 
sought  out  M.  de  Gabriac,  but  in  vain.  His  lodging  on 
the  Place  was  now  occupied  by  another,  who  could  give  no 
tidings  of  him  whatever.  I  wrote  to  my  mother  and  to 
Raper,  but  without  receiving  a  reply.  I  then  tried  M.  Jost, 
and  received  a  few  lines  to  say  that  my  friends  had  taken 
their  departure  some  months  before  from  Reichenau,  but  in 
what  direction  he  knew  not.  This  letter  put  the  finishing 
stroke  to  my  sense  of  utter  desolation.  It  was  indeed  not 
possible  to  conceive  a  more  forlorn  and  friendless  being 
than  I  now  was.  By  my  superior  in  the  office  I  was  held 
in  little  favor  or  esteem.  I  was  indeed,  in  many  respects, 
less  capable  than  many  of  my  colleagues,  and  it  is  not  im- 
possible that  my  apparent  pride  may  have  contrasted  with 
my  real  deficiency.  All  these  causes  pressed  upon  me  to- 
gether, and  made  up  a  series  of  annoyances  which  came 
very  little  short  of  downright  unhappiness. 

My  circumstances,  too,  were  not  calculated  to  dispel  these 
gloomy  tendencies.  Beyond  our  maintenance,  which  was 
of  the  very  humblest  kind,  our  whole  pay  was  five  hundred 
francs  yearly  ;  and  as  this  was  paid  in  paper  money,  it  re- 
duced the  actual  amount  more  than  one-fourth.  By  the 
very  strictest  economy,  and  by  many  an  act  of  self-denial, 
I  was  enabled  to  keep  myself  out  of  debt;  but  it  was  an 
existence  of  continued  watchfulness  and  care,  and  in  which 
not  even  the  very  cheapest  pleasure  found  a  place.  My 
colleagues,  indeed,  talked  of  cafes,  restaurants,  excursions, 
and  theatres,  as  of  matters  of  daily  habit;  but  in  what  way 
they  compassed  such  enjoyments  I  knew  not.  The  very 
freedom  of  their  language  on  these  themes  cast  an  air  of 
contemptuous  mockery  over  my  humbler  existence  that 
assuredly   did   not   diminish   its   bitterness. 

My  inexpertness  frequently  compelled  me  to  remain  in  the 
office  long  after  the  rest.  The  task  allotted  to  me  was  often 
of  greater  length,  and  many  times  have  I  passed  a  consider- 
able part  of  the  night  at  my  desk.  On  these  occasions, 
when   I  had  finished,   my  head  was  too  much  excited   for 


298  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

sleep,  and  I  then  sat  up  and  read  —  usually  one  of  the  vol- 
umes Raper  had  given  me  —  till  morning.  These  were  my 
happiest  hours ;  but  even  they  were  alloyed  by  the  weari- 
ness of  an  exhausted  and  tired  intellect.  So  thoroughly 
apart  from  the  world  did  I  live,  so  completely  did  I  hug 
my  solitary  existence  at  this  period,  that  of  the  events  hap- 
pening around  I  positively  knew  nothing.  With  cafes  and 
their  company,  or  with  newspapers,  I  had  no  intercourse ; 
and  although  at  moments  some  street  encounter,  some  col- 
lision between  the  mob  and  the  National  Guard,  would 
excite  my  curiosity,  I  never  felt  interest  enough  to  inquire 
the  cause,  or  care  for  the  consequences. 

Such  incidents  grew  day  by  day  more  common ;  firing 
was  frequently  heard  at  night  in  different  parts  of  the 
capital,  and  it  was  no  rare  occurrence  to  see  carts  with 
wounded  men  conveyed  to  hospital  through  the  streets,  at 
early  morning.  That  the  inhabitants  were  fully  alive  to  the 
vicinity  of  some  peril  was  plain  to  see.  At  the  slightest 
sign  of  tumult,  at  the  least  warning,  shops  were  closed  and 
shutters  fastened,  doors  strongly  barricaded,  and  armed  fig- 
ures seen  cautiously  peering  from  casements  and  parapets. 
At  one  time  a  single  horseman  at  full  gallop  would  give  the 
signal  for  these  precautions ;  at  others,  they  seemed  the  re- 
sult of  some  instinctive  apprehension  of  danger,  so  rapidly 
and  so  silently  were  they  effected.  Amid  all  these  portents, 
the  daily  life  of  Paris  went  on  as  before.  It  was  just  as  we 
hear  tell  of  in  the  countries  where  earthquakes  are  frequent, 
and  where  in  almost  every  century  some  terrible  convulsion 
has  laid  a  whole  city  in  ruins,  the  inhabitants  acquire  a 
strange  indifference  to  peril  till  the  very  instant  of  its 
presence,  and  learn  to  forget  calamities  when  once  they 
have  passed. 

As  for  myself,  so  accustomed  had  I  become  to  these 
shocks  of  peril  that  I  no  longer  went  to  the  window  when 
the  uproar  beneath  betokened  a  conflict,  nor  even  cared  to 
see  which  side  were  conquerors  in  the  affray.  It  was  in  a 
mood  of  'this  acquired  indifference  that  I  sat  reading  one 
evening  in  my  office  long  after  the  others  had  taken  their 
departure ;  twice  or  thrice  had  loud  and  prolonged  shouts 
from  the  street  disturbed  me,  but  without  exciting  in  me 


THE   BATTLE   OF  THE   SECTIONS.  299 

sufficient  of  curiosity  to  see  what  was  going  forward,  when 
at  last,  hearing  the  rumbling  sound  of  artillery  trains  as 
they  moved  past,  I  arose  and  went  to  the  window.  To  my 
surprise,  the  streets  were  densely  crowded,  an  enormous 
concourse  filling  them,  and  only  leaving  a  narrow  lane 
through  which  the  wagons  could  pass.  That  it  was  no 
mere  procession  was  clear  enough,  for  the  gunners  carried 
their  matches  lighted,  and  there  was  that  in  the  stern  air 
of  the  soldiery  that  bespoke  service.  They  wheeled  past 
the  church  of  St.  Roch,  and  entered  a  small  street  off  the 
Rue  St.  Honore  called  La  Dauphine,  where,  no  sooner  had 
they  passed  in,  than  the  sappers  commenced  tearing  up  the 
pavement  in  front  of  the  guns,  and  speedily  formed  a  trench 
of  about  five  feet  in  depth  before  them.  While  this  was 
doing,  some  mounted  dragoons  gave  orders  to  the  people 
to  disperse,  and  directed  them  to  move  away  by  the  side 
streets,  —  an  order  so  promptly  obeyed  that  in  a  few  minutes 
the  long  line  of  the  Rue  St.  Honore  was  totally  deserted. 
From  the  position  at  La  Dauphine  to  the  Tuileries  I  could 
perceive  that  a  line  of  communication  was  kept  open,  and 
orderlies  passed  at  a  gallop  frequently  from  one  side  to  the 
other.  Another  circumstance,  too,  struck  me  :  the  windows, 
instead  of  being  crowded  by  numbers  of  eager  spectators, 
were  strongly  shuttered  and  barred ;  and  when  that  was 
impossible,  the  glass  frames  were  withdrawn,  and  bed- 
mattresses  and  tables  placed  in  the  spaces.  Along  the 
parapets,  also,  vast  crowds  of  armed  men  were  to  be  seen, 
and  the  tower  and  battlements  of  St.  Roch  were  studded 
over  with  soldiers  of  the  National  Guard,  all  armed  and 
in  readiness.  From  the  glances  of  the  artillerymen  beneath 
to  the  groups  above,  it  required  no  great  prescience  to 
detect  that  they  stood  opposed  to  each  other  as  enemies. 

It  was  a  calm  mellow  evening  of  the  late  autumn.  The 
air  was  perfectly  still ;  and  now  the  silence  was  unbroken 
on  all  sides,  save  when,  from  a  distance,  the  quick  tramp 
of  cavalry  might  be  momentarily  heard,  as  if  in  the  act  of 
forcing  back  a  crowd  ;  and  then  a  faint  shout  would  follow, 
whose  accents  might  mean  triumph  or  defiance. 

I  was  already  beginning  to  weary  of  expectancy,  when  I 
perceived,   from  the   movement  on  the   house-tops  and  the 


300  SIR   JASPER   CAREW. 

church  tower,  that  something  was  going  forward  within  the 
view  of  those  stationed  there.  I  had  not  to  look  long  for 
the  cause,  for  suddenly  the  harsh,  sharp  beat  of  a  drum  was 
heard,  and  immediately  after  the  head  of  a  column  wheeled 
from  one  of  the  side  streets  into  the  Rue  St.  Honore. 
They  were  grenadiers  of  the  National  Guard,  and  a  fine 
body  of  men  they  seemed,  as  they  marched  proudly  for- 
ward till  they  came  to  a  halt  before  the  steps  of  St.  Roch. 
Handkerchiefs  were  waved  in  salutation  to  them  from 
windows  and  housetops,  and  cheering  followed  them  as 
they  went.  A  single  figure  at  the  entrance  of  La  Dauphine 
stood  observing  them  with  his  glass :  he  was  an  artillery 
officer,  and  took  a  long  and  leisurely  survey  of  the  troops, 
and  then  directed  his  eyes  towards  the  crowded  roofs,  which 
he  swept  hastily  with  his  telescope.  This  done,  he  sauntered 
carelessly  back,  and  disappeared. 

The  grenadiers  were  soon  followed  by  the  line,  and  now, 
as  far  as  my  eye  could  carry,  I  beheld  vast  masses  of  sol- 
diery who  filled  the  street  in  its  entire  breadth.  Up  to  this 
all  was  preparation.  Not  a  sight,  or  sound,  or  gesture 
indicated  actual  conflict,  and  the  whole  might  have  meant 
a  mere  demonstration  on  either  side,  when  suddenly  there 
burst  forth  a  crash  like  the  most  terrific  thunder.  It  made 
the  very  street  tremble,  and  the  houses  seemed  to  shake 
as  the  air  vibrated  around  them  ;  a  long  volley  of  musketry 
succeeded,  and  then  there  arose  a  din  of  artillery,  shouts, 
and  small-arms  that  made  up  the  infernal  chaos.  This 
came  from  the  quarter  of  the  river,  and  in  that  direction 
every  eye  was  turned.  I  hurried  to  the  back  of  the  house 
in  the  hope  of  being  able  to  see  something ;  but  the  windows 
only  looked  into  a  court  surrounded  by  tall  buildings.  Ere 
I  returned  to  my  place  the  conflict  had  already  begun.  The 
troops  of  the  National  Guard  advanced,  firing  by  sections, 
and  evidently  bent  on  forcing  their  passage  up  the  street; 
and  their  firing  seemed  as  if  meant  in  declaration  of  their 
intentions  rather  than  aggressively,  since  no  enemy  ap- 
peared in  front;  when,  no  sooner  had  the  leading  files 
reached  the  opening  of  La  Dauphine,  than  the  artillery 
opened  with  grape  and  round  shot.  The  distance  could 
scarcely  have  exceeded  forty  yards,  and  the  withering  fire 


THE   BATTLE   OF   THE   SECTIONS,  301 

tore  through  the  dense  ranks,  forming  deep  lanes  of  death ! 
Smoke  soon  enveloped  the  masses,  and  it  was  only  at  in- 
tervals I  could  catch  sight  of  the  moving  body,  which  still 
moved  up !  There  was  something  indescribably  dreadful 
in  seeing  the  steady  march  of  men  to  inevitable  destruction ; 
and  even  their  slow  pace  (for  such  was  it  of  necessity,  from 
the  numbers  of  dead  and  dying  that  encumbered  their  path) 
increased  the  horror  of  the  spectacle.  A  deadly  musketry 
poured  down  from  the  tower  of  St.  Roch  upon  the  gunners. 

The  whole  fire  from  housetops  and  windows  was  directed 
at  them ;  but  fast  as  they  fell,  others  took  their  places,  and 
the  roll  of  the  artillery  never  slackened  nor  ceased  for  an 
instant.  The  shot  rattled  like  hail  on  the  walls  of  the 
houses,  or  crashed  through  them  with  clattering  destruction. 
Wild  and  demoniac  yells,  death-shouts,  and  cries  of  triumph 
mingled  with  the  terrible  uproar.  Above  all,  however, 
roared  the  dread  artillery,  in  one  unbroken  thunder.  At  last 
the  column  seemed  to  waver  —  the  leading  files  fell  back  —  a 
moment's  hesitation  ensued  —  a  fresh  discharge  of  grape,  at 
less  than  pistol  range,  tore  through  them ;  and  now  the  word 
was  given  to  retire.  Shouts  and  cries  poured  from  the 
housetops  and  parapets.  Were  they  of  encouragement  or 
derision?  —  who  can  tell?  The  street  now  presented  the 
horrid  spectacle  of  indiscriminate  carnage ;  the  guns  were 
wheeled  forward  as  the  troops  retired,  cavalry  charging  on 
the  broken  masses  while  the  guns  were  reloading ;  the  cav- 
alcade of  death  rode  past  at  a  walk,  the  gunners  firing 
steadily  on,  till  the  word  was  given  to  cease.  The  smoke 
cleared  lazily  away  at  last,  and  now  no  living  thing  was  seen 
to  stir  in  front :  the  long  line  of  the  Rue  St.  Honore  pre- 
sented nothing  but  the  bodies  of  the  dead.  The  housetops 
and  parapets,  too,  were  speedily  deserted ;  for  the  houses 
were  now  forced  by  the  infantry  of  the  line,  who  at  every 
moment  appeared  at  the  windows  and  waved  their  shakos 
in  token  of  victory.  As  I  looked,  a  crash  recalled  my  atten- 
tion behind  me;  and  now  the  door  of  the  bureau  was  in 
ruins,  and  four  soldiers,  with  their  bayonets  at  the  charge, 
dashed  forward.  On  seeing  me  alone  and  unarmed,  they 
only  laughed,  and  passed  on  to  the  upper  story. 

"Are  you  in  charge  here?"  asked  a  young  corporal  of 


302  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

"  I  belong  to  the  bureau,"  said  I,  in  reply. 

"  Place  your  books  and  papers  under  lock  and  key,  then," 
said  he,   "and  make  your  way  to  headquarters." 

"Where?" 

"  At  the  Tuileries.  There  goes  the  Commander-in-Chief," 
added  he,  mechanically  saluting,  as  a  staff  of  officers  rode  by 
beneath. 

"Who  is  that  pale  man  in  front,  with  the  long  hair?'' 
asked  I. 

"General  Bonaparte,"  was  the  answer;  "and  few  can 
handle  artillery  like  him." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

AN    EPISODE    OF    MY    LIFE. 

If  I  could  have  turned  my  thoughts  from  my  own  desolate 
couditiou,  the  aspect  of  Paris  on  the  morning  after  the  battle 
might  well  have  engaged  my  attention.  The  very  streets 
presented  a  scene  such  as  never  can  be  forgotten !  The 
Government  had  adventured  on  the  bold  experiment  of  em- 
ploying the  masses  to  control  the  few,  and  the  fruits  of  this 
dangerous  alliance  might  be  seen  in  the  various  groups  that 
passed  along.  Officials  wearing  then-  badges  of  duty,  officers 
in  full  uniform,  walked  arm  in  arm  with  leaders  of  the  popu- 
lar party  j  men  high  in  the  state  talked  familiarly  in  the 
midst  of  little  groups  of  working-men  ;  parties  of  the  popular 
force,  rudely  armed,  ill-dressed,  and  disorderly,  presented 
arms  as  some  officer  of  rank  rode  by.  All  attested  the  exist- 
ence of  that  strange  compact  by  which  the  nation  was  again 
to  be  subjugated,  and  terror  made  the  active  principle  of  a 
government.  The  terrific  songs  of  the  bloody  days  of  the 
Revolution  were  once  more  heard,  and  the  cruel  denuncia- 
tions of  the  mob  again  rang  aloud  in  the  open  streets !  I 
heard  and  saw  all  these  like  one  in  a  dream,  as,  with  my 
portfolio  of  office-papers  under  my  arm,  I  held  my  way  to 
the  Tuileries ;  nor  was  it  till  I  had  reached  the  wooden 
stockade  in  front  of  that  palace  that  I  became  collected 
enough  to  ask  myself  whither  I  was  going,  and  for  what. 

The  machinery  of  government  to  which  I  belonged  was 
annihilated  and  destroyed;  they  who  had  guided  and  con- 
trolled it  were  gone  ;  and  there  I  stood  alone,  friendless,  and 
without  a  home  in  that  vast  city,  not  knowing  which  way  to 
turn  me.  I  wandered  into  the  garden  of  the  Tuileries,  and 
sat  down  upon  a  bench  in  one  of  the  less-frequented  alleys. 
The  cries  and  shouts  of  the  populace  rung  faintly  in  my  ear, 
and  the  noises  of  the  city  came  dulled  and  indistinct  by 


304  SIR   JASPER   CAREW. 

distance.  From  the  quiet  habits  of  my  simple  life,  I  had 
scarcely  learned  anything  whatever  of  Paris.  My  acquaint- 
ances were  limited  to  the  few  I  had  seen  at  the  bureau,  and 
these  I  only  met  when  there.  My  means  were  too  scanty  to 
admit  of  even  the  cheapest  pleasures ;  and  up  to  this  my 
existence  had  been  one  uniform  but  contented  poverty.  Even 
this  humble  provision  was  now  withdrawn  from  me.  What 
was  I  to  do?  Was  there  a  career  by  which  I  could  earn  my 
bread  ?  I  knew  of  none  save  daily  labor  with  my  hands ; 
and  where  to  seek  for  even  this  I  did  not  know.  In  my 
little  lodging  behind  the  bureau  I  possessed  a  few  articles  of 
clothes  and  some  books ;  these,  if  sold,  would  support  me 
for  a  week  or  two  ;  and  then  —  ay,  then  !  But  who  can  tell? 
thought  I :  a  day  has  marred,  —  who  knows  but  another  day 
may  make  my  fortune? 

It  was  night  when  I  turned  homeward.  To  my  surprise, 
the  stair  was  not  lit  up  as  usual,  and  it  was  only  after  re- 
peated knockiugs  that  the  door  was  opened  to  me,  and  old 
Lizette,  my  landlady's  servant,  with  a  voice  broken  by  sobs, 
bade  me  pass  in  quietly,  and  to  make  no  noise.  I  asked 
eagerly  if  any  misfortune  had  occurred,  and  heard  that  Mon- 
sieur Bernois,  my  landlord,  had  been  mortally  wounded  in 
the  affray  of  the  night  before,  and  was  then  lying  at  the 
point  of  death. 

"Is  it  the  surgeon,  Lizette?"  cried  Marguerite,  a  little 
girl  of  about  fourteen,  and  whose  gentle  "Good-day"  had 
been  the  only  thing  like  welcome  I  had  ever  heard  during 
my  stay  there  ;   "  is  it  the  surgeon  ?  " 

"  Helas,  no,  mademoiselle,  it  is  the  lodger!  " 

I  had  not  even  a  name  for  them !  I  was  simply  the  occu- 
pant of  a  solitary  chamber,  for  whom  none  cared  or  thought ; 
and  yet  at  that  instant  I  felt  my  isolation  the  greatest  bless- 
ing of  Heaven,  and  would  not  have  exchanged  my  desolate 
condition  for  all  the  ties  of  family ! 

"  Oh,  sir,"  cried  Marguerite,  "  have  pity  on  us,  and  come 
to  papa.  He  is  bleeding  on  the  bed  here,  and  none  of  us 
know  how  to  aid  him !  " 

"But  I  am  no  less  ignorant,  mademoiselle,"  said  I; 
"  would  that  I  could  be  of  any  use  to  you !  " 

"  Oh,  come,"  cried  she,  "come;  and  Heaven  may  direct 
you  how  to  succor  us,  for  we  are  utterly  deserted !  " 


AN   EPISODE   OF   MY   LIFE.  305 

Scarcely  knowing  what  I  did,  I  followed  the  little  girl  into 
a  darkened  room,  where  the  long-drawn  breathings  of  the 
wounded  man  were  the  only  sounds.  By  the  dim  half-light 
I  could  see  a  figure  seated  at  the  foot  of  the  bed.  It  was 
my  hostess,  pale,  stern-looking,  and  collected ;  there  she 
sat,  gazing  at  the  gasping  object  before  her,  with  a  terrible 
composure. 

"Mamma,  it  is  monsieur;  monsieur  who  lives  here  is 
come  to  see  papa,"  whispered  Marguerite,  timidly. 

The  mother  nodded  her  head,  as  if  to  imply  that  she  had 
heard  her,  but  never  spoke.  I  drew  nigh  the  bed,  the  rather 
to  show  my  sympathy  with  the  sorrow,  than  that  1  could  be 
of  any  service  ;  and  the  dying  man's  eyes  met  mine.  Glazed 
and  filmy  as  they  seemed  at  first,  I  fancied  they  grew  bright 
and  lustrous  as  he  continued  to  stare.  Such,  at  all  events, 
was  their  fascination  that  I  could  not  look  away  from  them, 
and  so  I  stood  under  that  steadfast  gaze  forgetful  even  of 
the  state  of  him  who  bestowed  it.  At  last  the  orbs  slowly 
turned,  at  first  towards  where  his  wife  sat,  then  to  Margue- 
rite as  she  knelt  by  the  bedside,  and  then  back  again  to  me, 
with  an  expression  that  needed  no  words  to  convey.  I  took 
the  clammy  hand  in  my  own,  and  felt  the  fingers  give  a  faint 
pressure.  I  squeezed  them  gently,  and  saw  that  his  lips 
parted ;  they  moved,  too,  as  though  with  an  effort  to  speak, 
but  without  avail.  The  attempt  had  evidently  cost  him  a 
severe  pang,  for  his  features  were  convulsed  for  a  few 
seconds,  at  the  end  of  which  he  gently  drew  me  a  little 
towards  him,  and  with  a  sigh  so  faint  as  to  be  scarcely  heard, 
uttered  the  words,  "  Pauvre  femme  !  " 

It  was  not  until  some  minutes  had  elapsed  that  I  saw  he 
had  ceased  to  breathe,  for  his  eyes  seemed  to  stare  with 
meaning  on  me,  and  his  countenance  remained  unchanged. 
At  length,  however,  I  became  conscious  that  the  struggle 
was  over,  and  his  spirit  had  passed  away  forever.  The  still- 
ness of  the  room  was  terrible,  for  not  a  stir  broke  it ;  and 
I  knelt  down  beside  Marguerite  to  pray. 

"  Here  is  the  surgeon,  mademoiselle,"  said  Lizette,  hur- 
riedly ;  and  an  old  man  drew  nigh  the  bed  and  touched  the 
wrist  of  the  dead  man. 

"  Ma  foi !  "  said  he,  "  this  is  the  fourth  time  I  have  been 
20 


306  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

sent  for  to-day  on  a  like  errand ;  "  and,  so  saying,  he  tapped 
me  on  the  shoulder,  and  motioned  me  to  follow  him. 

I  obeyed  at  once. 

"  Are  you  his  son?  "  asked  he,  briefly. 

"  No,"  I  replied. 

"  His  nephew?  —  his  clerk,  then?  " 

"Neither;  I  am  a  lodger  here,  and  do  not  even  claim 
acquaintance  with  the  family." 

"  No  matter,"  resumed  he,  dryly,  "  you  will  do  as  well  as 
another ;  give  me  pen  and  paper." 

I  took  some  from  an  open  portfolio  on  the  table  and  laid 
it  before  him,  and  he  wrote  rapidly  a  few  lines  in  a  strag- 
gling hand :  — 

"  The  citizen  Louis  Bernois,  age  —  ;  domiciled,  Rue 
Neuve  de  Viardot,  No.  318,  avocat,"  —  "we  may  call  him 
avocat,  though  he  was  only  a  writer,"  said  he,  looking  up, 

«  wounded  fatally  in  the  lungs  and  heart,  and  attended 

till  his  death,  on  this  morning,  by  the  doctor  Joseph  Caillot, 
surgeon  and  licentiate.  The  above  verified  by  me. "  —  "  Sign 
here,"  added  he,  handing  me  the  pen,  "  and  put  your  quality. 
Say,  '  Friend  of  the  family.'  " 

"  But  I  never  knew  them ;  I  have  only  lodged  in  the  house 
for  some  months  back." 

"  What  signifies  that?  It  is  a  mere  form  for  the  authori- 
ties, to  whom  his  death  must  be  reported,  or  his  family 
exposed  to  trouble  and  annoyance.  I  will  take  it  to  the 
bureau  myself." 

I  signed  my  name,  therefore,  as  he  directed  me,  and 
sealed  the  "act"  with  a  seal  I  found  on  the  table.  The 
doctor  pocketed  the  paper  and  withdrew,  not  even  bestow- 
ing on  me  a  good-bye  as  he  left  the  room. 

Lizette  came  to  me  for  instructions  as  to  what  was  to  be 
done.  Madame  had  never  recovered  consciousness  from  the 
very  first  moment  of  the  misfortune ;  mademoiselle  was  too 
young  and  too  inexperienced  to  be  consulted  on  the  occa- 
sion. The  family,  too,  had  only  been  a  few  months  in 
Paris,  and  had  no  acquaintance  save  with  the  tradespeople 
they  dealt  with. 

I  asked  the  name  of  the  avocat  for  whom  he  usually  tran- 
scribed the  deeds  and  papers,   and  learned  that  it  was  a 


AN  EPISODE  OF   MY  LIFE.  307 

certain  Monsieur  le  Monnier,  a  lawyer  of  high  standing  at 
the  bar  of  Paris,  and  who  lived  in  the  Hue  Quincampoix  ! 
With  what  a  strange  sensation  I  heard  the  name  of  that 
street,  which  was  the  same  that  Herr  Robert  spoke  of  as 
inhabited  by  his  father  in  the  days  of  his  greatest  prosperity  ! 
The  thought  merely  shot  through  my  head  rapidly,  for  other 
and  far  more  pressing  considerations  demanded  all  my  atten- 
tion. I  resolved  at  once  to  call  on  Monsieur  le  Monnier  and 
ask  his  advice  and  guidance  in  the  difficult  position  I  then 
found  myself.  Dressing  myself  with  all  the  care  my  scanty 
wardrobe  permitted,  I  set  out  for  the  Rue  Quincampoix,  and 
soon  found  the  house,  which  was  a  large  and  spacious  though 
somewhat  sombre-looking  "  hotel,"  with  a  half-effaced  shield 
over  the  doorway.  The  porter  inquired  if  I  came  on  busi- 
ness;  and  on  my  saying  "Yes,"  informed  me  that  I  must 
call  on  the  following  morning,  from  eleven  to  two  o'clock,  — 
that  the  "  Mtonnier,"  for  such  was  his  rank,  did  not 
transact  affairs  in  the  evening. 

I  argued  and  pressed  my  suit  with  all  zeal ;  but  it  was  only 
when  I  produced  a  piece  of  two  francs  that  he  consented  to 
present  my  card,  on  which  I  had  written  a  few  lines  to  explain 
the  urgent  cause  of  my  visit. 

After  a  long  and  most  impatient  waiting  a  servant  came  to 
say  that  monsieur  would  receive  me,  and  I  followed  him  up  a 
spacious  but  dimly  lighted  stair,  and  across  a  long  dreary 
gallery,  where  a  single  lamp  shone,  into  a  small  chamber 
fitted  up  like  a  study.  Here,  although  it  was  autumn,  the 
"batonnier"  was  seated  beside  a  brisk  fire,  enjoying  his 
coffee.  He  was  a  small  man,  with  a  massive,  well-shaped 
head  covered  with  a  profusion  of  snow-white  hair,  which  he 
wore  in  such  careless  fashion  as  to  make  his  head  appear 
even  much  larger  than  it  was ;  his  features  were  pleasing, 
and  his  eyes  were  singularly  soft  and  gentle-looking.  With 
a  voice  of  peculiar  sweetness,  and  in  a  low  tone,  he  welcomed 
me  and  desired  me  to  be  seated.  This  done,  he  begged  me 
to  state  the  object  of  my  visit. 

In  the  very  fewest  wonts  I  could  relate  it,  I  mentioned  the 
sad  circumstances  about  which  I  came,  told  my  own  difficulty 
in  the  matter,  and  asked  for  advice. 

"  At   any   other   moment,"  said   he,  when   I  concluded, 


308  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

"  your  task  would  be  an  easy  one.  You  could  report  the 
event  to  the  '  commissaire  '  of  the  '  Quarter,'  state  what  you 
know,  and  withdraw  from  the  affair  altogether.  Now,  how- 
ever, the  troubles  in  which  we  live  excite  suspicions  in  every 
mind.  Your  name  will  be  associated  with  the  opinions  for 
which  this  poor  man  has  given  his  life.  The  authorities  will 
be  on  your  track  at  every  moment,  and  every  act  of  your  life 
watched  and  reported.  With  whom  were  you  acquainted  in 
Paris  ?  " 

"  With  none." 

He  stared  with  some  surprise ;  and  I  told  him  briefly  the 
circumstances  of  my  own  situation. 

"  A  strange  story  indeed!"  said  he,  taking  up  my  card 
from  the  chimney-piece.  "  And  your  name,  for  I  cannot 
decipher  it  here,  is  —  " 

"  Carew,  — Jasper  Carew." 

"That  name  is  Irish,  if  I  mistake  not,"  said  he;  "at 
least  I  remember,  some  twenty  years  ago,  we  had  here  a  dis- 
tinguished stranger  who  came  from  Ireland,  and  was  called 
Carew.  He  was  the  fashionable  celebrity  of  a  very  famous 
period." 

"  He  was  my  father,  sir." 

The  old  lawyer  bowed  and  smiled ;  but  though  the  gesture 
was  eminently  polite,  the  shrewd  twinkle  of  his  eyes  bespoke 
incredulity.     I  saw  this,  and  said  at  once,  — 

"I  have  many  letters  of  his,  dated  from  the  'Place 
Vendome,'  No.   13,  where  he  lived." 

"Indeed!"  cried  he,  in  astonishment.  "You  possess 
these  at  present?  " 

"  Some  few  I  have  with  me;  others,  a  large  number,  are 
in  the  keeping  of  my  friends,  as  well  as  notes  and  papers  in 
the  hand  of  the  late  Due  cl'Orleans,  with  whom  my  father 
appeared  to  live  on  considerable  intimacy." 

"  That  I  can  vouch  for  myself,"  said  the  avocat,  hastily; 
then,  suddenly  correcting  himself,  added,  —  "  Perhaps  you 
would  give  me  a  sight  of  some  of  these  documents.  I  do 
not  ask  from  any  impertinent  curiosity,  but  with  the  convic- 
tion that  I  can  be  of  some  service  to  you." 

I  readily  promised  to  do  so,  and  the  following  day  was 
named  for  the  purpose. 


AN   EPISODE   OF   MY   LIFE.  309 

"  Now,  for  the  present  case,"  said  he.  "I  know  nothing 
of  Monsieur  Bernois  beyond  what  a  client  of  mine  from  the 
Auvergnat  told  me.  He  was  the  son  of  a  poor  farmer  near 
Linauge,  who  studied  the  law  at  Paris,  went  back  to  his 
native  village  and  married,  and,  after  some  years  of  failure 
at  home,  came  here  to  make  his  fortune.  I  employed  him 
partly  from  motives  of  charity,  for  he  was  irregular  in  his 
habits  of  work,  and  seemed  overcome  by  a  depression  that 
rendered  him  often  incapable  of  all  exertion.  Make  what 
arrangements  you  think  suitable  for  his  burial,  and  then 
induce  his  poor  widow  and  daughter  to  return  home.  Call 
upon  me  for  any  expenses  that  may  be  needed,  and  say  that 
I  will  send  one  of  my  clerks  to  make  an  inventory  of  his 
effects  and  draw  up  the  '  proces '  the  law  requires." 

There  was  a  mingled  kindness  and  commonplace  in  the 
way  he  spoke  this  that  left  me  in  doubt  which  of  the  two 
frames  of  mind  predominated  in  his  nature.  At  all  events, 
I  had  good  reason  to  be  satisfied  with  my  reception,  and, 
resisting  his  invitation  to  stay  to  supper,  I  hastened  back  to 
the  Rue  de  Viardot. 

The  poor  widow  still  remained  in  the  state  of  stupor  in 
which  I  first  saw  her ;  but  Marguerite's  grief  had  taken  a 
more  \iolent  form,  and  the  terrible  shock  had  brought  on 
brain-fever,  —  at  least,  so  Lizette  pronounced  it.  My  sad 
duties  were  thus  multiplied  by  the  cares  of  the  sick-room,  for 
Lizette  threw  all  upon  me,  and  would  do  nothing  without  my 
guidance  and  advice. 

By  great  exertions,  and  by  working  all  night  through,  I 
reduced  the  affairs  of  the  family  to  a  condition  of  order ;  and 
when  Monsieur  le  Monnier's  clerk  appeared  in  the  morning, 
I  had  already  compiled  the  inventory  and  drawn  up  the 
"  aete  de  deces,"  as  it  is  called,  for  the  authorities. 

By  searching  amongst  papers  I  also  found  the  address  of 
the  widow's  father,  who  lived  in  the  village  of  "  Linange," 
and  to  him  I  wrote  a  few  lines,  acquainting  him  with  what 
had  occurred,  and  asking  his  counsel  with  regard  to  the 
family.  Though  Lizette  had  accompanied  them  from  their 
native  village  to  Paris,  she  was  greatly  indisposed  to  afford 
any  information  as  to  their  circumstances  or  condition  in  life, 
and  seemed  only  eager  to  complete  all  the  formalities  of  the 


310  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

law  and  quit  the  capital.  I  certainly  did  not  impose  any 
unfair  burden  upon  her  incommunicative  disposition.  I 
asked  a  few  questions,  —  none  that  were  not  in  a  measure 
indispensable. 

I  suppose  my  reserve  in  this  wise  impressed  her  favorably, 
for  she  grew  gradually  more  and  more  open,  dropping  hints 
of  sad  circumstances  and  calamities,  in  a  way  that  seemed 
half  to  invite  inquiry  on  my  part.  I  was  resolved,  however, 
not  to  make  any  advances,  and  left  her  entirely  to  her  own 
choice  as  to  what  revelations  she  might  make  me.  I  have  no 
doubt  that  had  my  object  been  to  gratify  my  curiosity,  I 
could  not  have  hit  upon  any  surer  means  of  success. 

We  laid  the  remains  of  poor  Bernois  in  a  little  graveyard 
outside  the  Porte  St.  Denis ;  Lizette  and  myself  the  only 
mourners  that  followed  the  bier !  As  I  slowly  ascended  the 
stairs  towards  my  room,  I  said,  — 

"Come  to  me  this  evening,  Lizette,  and  say  if  I  can  be 
of  any  further  service  to  you,  since  I  mean  to  leave  Paris 
to-morrow." 

"  To  leave  Paris !  "  cried  she  ;  "  Grand  Dieu  I  —  why,  and 
for  where  ?  " 

"  For  Switzerland,"  replied  I.  "  My  friends  there  have 
not  answered  my  letters  for  some  time  back,  and  I  have 
determined  to  set  off  and  see  them." 

"But  why  not  write  again?  Think  of  what  a  journey 
it  is  !  " 

"  I  have  written  till  I  have  lost  all  hope.  I  must  satisfy 
myself  by  going  in  person." 

"But  you  will  not  leave  us  helpless,  friendless,  as  we 
are  !  "  cried  she. 

Never  till  that  moment  had  it  occurred  to  me  that  my 
assistance  could  avail  to  any  one,  or  that  there  existed  one 
in  the  world  humble  enough  to  be  benefited  by  my  guidance. 
The  appeal,  however,  gave  me  a  self-confidence  and  an 
energy  which  I  had  not  felt  before,  and  I  listened  to  the 
explanations  of  the  old  servant  with  every  desire  to  aid  her. 

She  judged  rightly  enough  that  as  soon  as  removal  were 
possible,  the  safest  course  would  be  for  the  widow  and  her 
daughter  to  return  to  their  village. 

"  I  know,"  added   she,  "that  this  is  not  to  be  effected 


AN   EPISODE   OF   MY   LIFE.  311 

without  difficulty.  '  Madame  '  will  oppose  it  to  the  last ;  aud 
it  may  be  that  nothing  short  of  force  will  accomplish  it." 

I  asked  the  reason  of  this  repugnance,  and  she  only  gave 
me  a  vague,  unmeaning  answer.  It  was  clear  to  me  there 
was  a  mystery  in  the  affair ;  and  though  piqued  that  I  was 
not  intrusted  with  the  secret,  I  felt  that  to  withdraw  my  aid 
from  them  on  such  grounds  would  be  both  selfish  and 
unworthy. 

"  I  will  consult  M.  le  Monnier,"  said  I,  at  last ;  "he  shall 
decide  what  is  best  to  be  done ;  "  and  at  once  set  out  for  the 
Rue  Quincampoix. 

The  old  lawyer  received  me  blandly  as  before,  and  gave 
me  a  few  lines  for  his  family  physician,  who  would  see  the 
widow  and  Marguerite,  and  pronounce  his  opinion  on  their 
fitness  for  removal.  Le  Monnier  seemed  pleased  with  the 
interest  I  manifested  for  these  poor  friendless  people,  and 
readily  promised  to  aid  me  in  their  behalf. 

The  doctor,  too,  was  no  less  benevolently  disposed,  and 
came  at  once  with  me  to  the  house.  His  visit  was  a  long 
one, —  so  long  that  more  than  once  I  asked  Lizette  if  she 
were  quite  certain  that  he  had  not  taken  his  departure. 
At  length,  however,  he  came  forth,  and,  leading  me  into  a 
room,  closed  the  door  behind  us  with  all  the  air  of  great 
secrecy. 

"There  is  some  sad  story,"  said  he,  "here,  of  which  we 
have  not  the  clew.     This  is  a  serious  affair." 

"  How  do  you  mean?  "  asked  I. 

"  I  mean  that  the  state  in  which  I  find  this  woman  is  not 
attributable  to  the  recent  shock.  It  is  not  her  husband's 
death  has  caused  these  symptoms." 

"  And  what  are  they?      Do  they  threaten  her  life?  " 

"  No,  certainly  not;  she  may  live  for  years." 

"  What  then?     They  will  cause  great  suffering,  perhaps?  " 

"  Not  even  that,  but  worse  than  that.  It  is  her  intelli- 
gence is  lost;  she  has  been  stunned  by  some  terrible  shock 
of  calamity,  and  her  mind  is  gone,  in  all  likelihood  forever  !  " 

To  my  eager  questioning  he  replied  by  explaining  that 
these  cases  were  far  less  hopeful  than  others  in  which  more 
palpable  symptoms  manifested  themselves;  that  they  were 
of  all  others  the  least  susceptible  of  treatment. 


312  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

"When  we  say,"  continued  he,  "that 'time'  is  the  best 
physician  for  them,  we  declare  in  one  word  our  own  igno- 
rance of  the  malady  ;  and  yet  such  is  the  simple  truth  !  A 
course  of  years  may  restore  her  to  reason,  —  there  is  no 
other  remedy." 

"  And  her  daughter?  " 

"  That  is  not  a  case  for  apprehension,  — it  is  a  common 
fever,  the  result  of  a  nervous  impression ;  a  few  days  will 
bring  her  completely  about." 

I  mentioned  to  the  doctor  my  belief  that  Lizette  could 
probably  impart  some  explanation  of  the  mystery ;  but  the 
old  woman  was  proof  against  all  cross-examination,  and 
professed  to  know  nothing  that  could  account  for  her  mis- 
tress's condition.  The  question  was  now  how  to  act  in  this 
emergency?  and  the  doctor  pronounced  that  there  was  no 
other  course  than  to  obtain  her  admission  into  some  maison 
de  sante :  if  her  fortune  permitted,  to  one  of  the  better 
class ;  if  not,  there  were  various  humbler  houses,  where 
the  patients  were  treated  well  and  skilfully.  As  a  prelimi- 
nary step,  however,  he  requested  me  to  write  again  to  her 
family,  to  state  the  opinion  he  had  come  to,  and  ask  for 
their  advice. 

"  It  is  little  other  than  a  form  to  do  so,"  added  he,  "  for 
we  live  in  times  when  the  state  is  everything,  family  noth- 
ing. If  I  report  this  case  to-morrow  to  the  Bureau  of 
Health  of  the  '  Quarter,'  a  commission  will  assemble,  ex- 
amine, and  decide  upon  it  at  once.  The  measures  adopted 
will  be  as  imperatively  executed  as  though  the  law  were  in 
pursuit  of  a  criminal ;  and  though  this  be  so,  and  we  cannot 
help  it,  it  will  have  the  semblance  of  consideration  for  the 
feelings  of  her  relatives,  if  we  consult  them." 

He  left  me,  therefore,  to  make  this  sad  communication, 
and  promised  to  repeat  his  visit  on  the  following  day.  By 
way  of  extorting  some  confession  from  old  Lizette,  I  told 
her  the  course  the  doctor  had  resolved  upon ;  but,  far  from 
exhibiting  any  repugnance  to  it,  she  briefly  said,  "  It  was  all 
for  the  best." 

It  was  not  till  after  repeated  efforts  I  could  satisfy  myself 
with  the  terms  of  my  letter.  The  occasion  itself  was  a  diffi- 
cult one ;  but  my  sense  of  a  mystery  of  which  I  knew  noth- 


AN   EPISODE   OF   MY   LIFE.  313 

ing,  added  immensely  to  the  embarrassment.  I  was,  more- 
over, addressing  persons  I  had  never  seen,  and  of  whose 
very  condition  in  life  I  was  ignorant.  This  in  itself  was 
a  circumstance  that  required  consideration.  I  thought  I 
Would  read  my  letter  to  Lizette,  and  sent  for  her  to  hear  it. 
She  listened  attentively  as  I  read  it,  but  made  no  other 
remark  than,  "  Yes;  that  will  be  sufficient." 

On  the  fourth  day  after  I  despatched  this,  came  a  letter 
in  reply,  the  handwriting,  style,  and  appearance  of  which 
were  all  superior  to  what  I  had  expected.  It  was  from  an 
unmarried  sister  of  Madame  Bernois,  who  signed  herself 
"  Ursule,"  that  being  the  name  by  which  she  had  "  pro- 
fessed "  formerly  in  a  convent,  destroyed  in  the  early  days 
of  the  Revolution.  The  writer,  after  expressing  deep  grati- 
tude for  the  part  I  had  taken,  went  on  to  speak  of  the  sub- 
ject of  my  communication.  Her  father's  infirmities  had 
rendered  him  bedridden,  and  so  utterly  incapable  of  afford- 
ing any  help  or  even  counsel  that  she  hesitated  about  in- 
forming him  of  the  terrible  calamity  that  had  befallen  them. 
She  perfectly  concurred  in  the  advice  given  by  the  doctor, 
if  "only  that  it  saved  her  poor  sister  from  a  return  to  a 
home  now  associated  with  nothing  but  sorrow,  and  where, 
of  course,  her  chances  of  recovery  would  be  diminished." 
These  strange  expressions  puzzled  me  much,  and  led  me  at 
first  to  suppose  that  Ursule  believed  I  knew  more  of  her 
sister's  story  than  I  really  was  acquainted  with ;  but  as  I 
read  them  again,  I  saw  that  they  might  possibly  only  have 
reference  to  her  father's  sad  condition.  Margot,  for  so  she 
called  her  niece,  "would,  of  course,  come  back  to  them;" 
and  she  charged  me  to  despatch  her,  under  Lizette's  care, 
by  the  diligence,  as  soon  as  she  was  judged  sufficiently 
well  to  encounter  the  fatigue  of  the  journey.  "With  regard 
to  any  property  or  effects  belonging  to  them,  she  left  all 
implicitly  at  my  own  discretion,  believing,  as  she  said,  the 
same  kindness  that  had  hitherto  guided  me  would  also  here 
suggest  what  was  best  for  the  interests  of  the  widow  and 
her  child. 

Some  days  of  unremitting  exertion  succeeded  the  receipt 
of  this  letter,  for  there  was  no  end  to  the  formalities  requi- 
site before  I  could  obtain  admission  for  the  widow  into  a 


314  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

small  maison  de  sante,  at  Mont  Martre.  It  was,  indeed,  a 
moment  at  which  the  authorities  were  overwhelmed  with 
business,  and  many  of  the  public  functionaries  were  new 
to  office,  and  totally  ignorant  of  its  details.  The  public, 
too,  were  under  the  influence  of1  a  terror  that  seemed  to  par- 
alyze all  powers  of  reason.  In  my  frequent  visits  to  the 
commissaire  of  the  "  Quarter,"  when  waiting  for  hours  long 
in  his  antechamber,  I  had  abundant  opportunity  to  measure 
the  extent  of  the  fear  that  then  dominated  the  mind  of  the 
capital,  since  every  trifling  incident  evidenced  and  betrayed 
it. 

Ladies  of  rank  and  condition  would  come,  earnestly  en- 
treating that  they  might  obtain  leave  to  attend  the  sick  in 
the  hospitals,  and  nurse  the  "  dear  brothers  "  who  had  fallen 
in  the  cause  of  liberty.  Others,  of  equal  station,  requested 
that  materials  might  be  distributed  to  them  to  knit  stock- 
ings for  the  soldiers  of  the  republic,  regretting  their  poverty 
at  not  being  able  to  supply  them  from  their  own  resources. 
Shopkeepers  besought  the  authorities  that  their  taxes  might 
be  doubled,  or  even  trebled ;  and  some  professed  to  hope 
that  the  maladies  which  incapacitated  them  from  military 
service  might  be  compensated  by  works  of  charity  and  be- 
nevolence. There  was  an  abject  meanness  in  the  character 
of  these  petitions  too  revolting  to  endure  the  thought  of. 
The  nation  seemed  prostrated  by  its  terror,  and  degraded  to 
the  very  deepest  abyss  of  shame  and  self-contempt.  The 
horrible  scenes  of  blood  through  which  they  had  passed 
might,  indeed,  excuse  much,  but  there  were  proofs  of  na- 
tional cowardice  at  this  juncture  such  as  scarcely  any  suf- 
fering could  justify  or  palliate. 

For  these  considerations  I  had  but  a  passing  thought. 
My  whole  attention  was  devoted  to  the  little  circle  of  cares 
and  sorrows  around  me ;  and,  in  addition  to  other  calami- 
ties, poor  old  Lizette,  my  aid  and  help  throughout  all  difficul- 
ties, was  seized  with  a  violent  fever,  and  obliged  to  be 
conveyed  to  hospital.  I  do  not  believe  that  anything  can 
sustain  mere  bodily  strength  more  powerfully  than  the  sense 
of  doing  a  benevolent  action.  Fatigue,  weariness,  exhaus- 
tion, sickness  itself,  can  be  combated  by  this  one  stimulant. 
For  myself,  I  can  aver  that  I  scarcely  ate  or  slept  during 


AN  EPISODE  OF  MY  LIFE.  315 

the  ten  days  that  these  events  were  happening.  Never  had 
any  incident  of  my  own  life  so  much  engrossed  me  as  the 
care  of  these  unhappy  people ;  and  when  once  or  twice  Le 
Monnier  adverted  to  my  own  story,  I  always  replied  that  for 
the  moment  I  had  no  thoughts,  nor  hopes,  nor  fears,  save 
for  the  widow  and  her  orphan  daughter. 

The  old  lawyer's  benevolence  enabled  me  to  meet  all  the 
expenses  which  from  day  to  day  were  incurred.  He  sup- 
plied me  with  means  to  pay  the  charges  of  the  maison  de 
sante  and  the  fees  to  the  physicians,  and  enabled  me  to 
procure  some  articles  of  mourning  for  poor  "  Margot,"  who 
had  now  sufficiently  recovered  from  her  illness  to  compre- 
hend her  bereavement  and  the  desolate  condition  in  which  she 
was  placed.  It  was,  indeed,  a  sad  lesson  to  teach  the  poor 
child ;  nor  did  I,  in  my  own  forlorn  and  isolated  state,  know 
what  consolations  to  offer,  nor  what  hopes  to  set  before 
her.  I  could  but  tell  her  that  I  too  was  an  orphan,  friend- 
leS8i  —  liay,  far  more  so  than  herself ;  that  for  me  the  world 
had  neither  home  nor  country;  and  yet  that  each  day, 
glimpses  of  bright  hopes  gleamed  upon  me,  kind  words  and 
acts  met  me,  and  that  as  I  lived  I  learned  to  feel  that  there 
was  a  brotherhood  in  humanity,  and  that  amidst  all  the 
adverse  incidents  of  fortune,  warm  hearts  and  generous 
natures  were  scattered  about  to  sustain  the  drooping  courage 
of  those  deserted  as  we  were. 

"  And  be  assured,  Margot,"  said  I,  "  the  time  will  come 
yet  when  you  and  I  will  recall  these  dark  hours  with  a  sense 
of  not  unpleasant  sorrow,  to  think  how  patiently  we  bore 
our  ills,  how  submissively  and  how  trustfully.  Then  shall 
we  teach  others,  young  as  we  are  now,  that  even  the  hum- 
blest has  a  duty  to  do  in  this  life,  and  that  he  who  would 
do  it  well  must  bring  to  his  task  a  stout  heart  and  a  steady 
will,  and  with  these  there  are  no  failures." 

I  do  not  think  that  Margot  derived  much  hope  from  all 
my  efforts  at  consolation,  but  she  certainly  felt  a  strong 
interest  in  the  similarity  of  our  fortunes.  Again  and  again 
did  she  question  me  if  I  had  seen  and  could  remember 
my  mother,  and  asked  me  a  thousand  questions  about  the 
dear  friend  whom  I  had  ever  called  by  that  name.  We 
talked  of  no  other  theme  than  this,  and  our  isolation  served 


316  SIR   JASPER   CAREW. 

to  link  us  together,  as  that  of  two  beings  deserted  by  all, 
and  only  cared  for  by  each  other.  There  was  a  character 
of  depression  about  her  that  seemed  to  come  of  a  life  of 
habitual  gloom  ;  the  ordinary  state  of  her  mind  was  sad, 
and  vet  her  dark,  lustrous  eyes  could  flash  with  sudden 
brilliancy ;  her  deep  color  knew  how  to  heighten ;  and  I 
have  seen  her  lip  tremble  with  proud  emotion  at  moments 
of  excitement. 

When  sufficiently  recovered  to  bear  the  journey,  Le 
Monnier  counselled  me  to  convey  her  to  her  friends ;  and 
I  yielded  —  shall  I  own  it?  —  reluctantly;  for  of  all  the 
world,  Margot  was  now  the  only  one  to  whom  I  could  speak, 
as  youth  loves  to  speak,  of  all  my  hopes  and  my  dreads, 
my  ambitions  and  my  aspirings.  So  long  as  my  duty  each 
day  revolved  round  her,  I  had  no  time  to  think  of  my  own 
fate,  save  as  a  thing  to  weave  fancies  about,  to  speculate 
on  a  brilliant  future,  and  imagine  incidents  and  events  at 
random.  With  what  enthusiasm  was  I  often  carried  away 
by  these  self-wrought  fancies !  —  with  what  a  sense  of 
triumph  have  I  seen  Margot,  forgetting  for  the  instant  the 
sad  realities  of  her  lot,  listen  breathlessly  to  me  as  I  told 
of  my  ambitious  plans  !  To  her  I  was  already  a  hero ;  and 
oh !  the  glorious  fascination  with  which  one  first  feels  the 
thought  that  another's  heart  has  learned  to  beat  highly  for 
our  successes,  and  to  throb  with  eagerness  for  our  triumph ! 
I  was  but  a  boy,  Margot  was  a  child ;  and  of  love,  as  poets 
describe  it,  there  was  none  between  us.  Still,  in  my  devo- 
tion there  was  nothing  I  would  not  have  dared,  to  please  her, 
—  nothing  I  would  not  have  braved,  to  make  her  think  more 
highly  of  me.  It  was  self-love,  but  self-love  ennobled  by 
generous  wishes  and  high  ambitions.  I  strove  to  be  worthy 
of  her  affection,  that  so  I  might  be  capable  of  doing  more 
still  to  deserve  it ! 

Is  it  to  be  wondered  at  if  I  dreaded  to  break  this  spell, 
and  to  awaken  from  a  trance  of  such  fascination  ?  But  there 
was  no  alternative ;  Margot  must  go,  and  I  must  address 
myself  to  the  stern  business  of  life,  for  I  had  my  bread  to 
earn !  How  ardently  I  wished  it  was  to  my  dear  mother's 
arms  that  I  should  consign  her,  that  her  home  could  be 
that  same  humble  home  I  had  just  quitted,  and  that  poor 


AN  EPISODE   OF   MY   LIFE.  317 

Joseph  could  have  been  her  teacher  and  her  guide  !  Alas ! 
I  no  longer  knew  in  what  part  of  the  world  to  look  for  them, 
and  I  could  only  speak  of  these  things  as  I  spoke  of  the 
dream-wrought  fancies  that  my  hopes  called  up ! 

It  was  on  a  bright  November  morning,  clear,  sharp,  and 
frosty,  that  we  left  Paris  in  the  diligence  for  Lyons.  M. 
le  Monnier  had  accompanied  us  himself  to  the  bureau,  and 
given  the  conducteur  directions  to  show  us  every  attention 
in  his  power.  Three  days'  and  nights'  travelling  brought 
us  to  Valence,  where  poor  Margot,  completely  worn  out, 
was  obliged  to  repose  for  some  hours,  during  which  time  I 
strolled  through  the  town  to  see  its  churches  and  other 
remarkable  monuments.  It  was  the  hour  of  the  table-d'hote 
as  I  regained  the  inn,  and  the  hostess  advised  that  we 
should  dine  at  the  public  table,  as  less  expensive  than  in 
private.  I  remember  well  with  what  mingled  bashfuluess 
and  pride  I  entered  the  room,  with  Margot  holding  my 
hand.  The  company  was  a  numerous  one,  comprising, 
besides  many  of  the  townspeople,  several  officers  of  the 
garrison,  all  of  whom  stared  with  undisguised  astonish- 
ment at  the  aspect  of  two  travellers  of  our  youth  and 
palpable  inexperience,  while  the  contrast  between  the  deep 
mourning  of  her  dress  and  the  gay  colors  of  mine  at  once 
showed  that  we  were  not  brother  and  sister.  To  my  re- 
spectful salute  on  entering,  few  deigned  to  reply ;  my 
companion's  beauty  had  arrested  every  attention,  and  all 
eyes  were  turned  towards  her  as  she  took  her  place  at 
table. 

For  the  incident  which  succeeded,  I  must  devote  a  short 
chapter. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE    INN    AT    VALENCE. 

Preceded  by  the  waiter,  who  was  about  to  point  out  the 
places  destined  for  us  at  the  table,  I  walked  up  the  room, 
holding  Margot  by  the  hand.  The  strangers  made  way  for 
us  as  we  went,  not  with  any  of  the  deferential  politeness  so 
usual  in  France,  but  in  a  spirit  of  insolent  astonishment 
at  our  presence  there.  Such,  at  least,  was  the  impression 
their  behavior  produced  on  me ;  and  I  was  only  anxious 
that  it  should  not  be  so  felt  by  my  companion. 

As  I  drew  back  my  chair,  to  seat  myself  at  her  side,  I  felt 
a  hand  placed  on  my  arm.  I  turned,  and  saw  an  officer,  a 
man  of  about  six  or  seven  and  twenty,  with  a  bushy  red 
beard  and  moustache,  who  said,  — 

"  This  place  is  mine,  citizen;  you  must  go  seek  for  one 
elsewhere." 

I  appealed  to  the  waiter,  who  merely  shrugged  his 
shoulders,  and  muttered  something  unintelligible ;  to  which 
I  replied  by  asking  him  to  show  me  another  place,  while 
I  assisted  Margot  to  rise. 

"  La  petite  shall  stay  where  she  is,"  broke  in  the  officer, 
bluntly,  as  he  brushed  in  front  of  me ;  and  an  approving 
laugh  from  his  comrades  at  once  revealed  to  me  the  full 
meaning  of  the  impertinence. 

"  This  young  lady  is  under  my  care,  sir,"  said  I,  calmly, 
"  and  needs  no  protection  from  you." 

"  The  young  lady,"  cried  he,  with  a  burst  of  coarse 
laughter  at  the  words,  "  knows  better  how  to  choose  !  Is  it 
not  so,  citizen?  I  look  a  more  responsible  guardian  than 
that  thin  stripling  with  the  pale  cheek." 

"  I  appeal  to  this  company,  to  the  superiors  of  this  officer, 
—  if  there  be  such  present,  —  to  know  are  these  the  habits  of 


THE   INN   AT  VALENCE.  319 

this  place,  or  have  I  been  singled  out  specially  for  this 
insolence?  " 

"  Insolence  !  insolence  !  "  repeated  every  voice  around  me, 
in  accents  of  astonishment  aud  reprobation  ;  while  suddenly 
above  the  clamor  a  deep  voice  said,  — 

"Lieutenant  Carrier,  take  a  place  at  the  foot  of  the 
table !  " 

"  Oui,  mon  Colonel !  "  was  the  reply  ;  and  he  who  accosted 
me  so  rudely,  now  moved  away,  aud  I  seated  myself  at 
Margot's  side. 

I  believe  that  during  this  brief  scene  the  poor  girl  kuew 
little  or  nothing  of  what  was  goiug  forward.  The  fatigue, 
from  which  she  had  not  yet  recovered  ;  the  novelty  of  the 
place  in  which  she  found  herself ;  the  confusion  natural  to 
mixing  with  a  strange  company,  —  all  contributed  to  engage 
her  attention  and  occupy  her  thoughts.  It  was  only  by  the 
deadly  paleness  of  my  features  that  she  at  last  guessed  that 
something  had  gone  wrong.  I  tried  by  every  means  in  my 
power  to  reassure  her.  I  affected,  as  well  as  I  might,  to 
seem  easy  and  unconcerned.  I  even  essayed,  by  way  of 
showing  my  self-possession,  to  engage  the  person  next  me  in 
conversation ;  but  a  cold  stare  of  surprise  arrested  the 
attempt,  and  I  sat  abashed  and  ashamed  at  the  rebuke. 

I  do  not  know  if,  in  my  whole  life,  I  ever  passed  an  hour 
of  greater  misery  than  the  time  of  that  dinner.  Had  I  been 
there  alone,  I  could  have  confronted  manfully  whatever 
threatened  me ;  but  the  thought  of  involving  Margot  in  any 
scene  of  shame  —  of  exposing  her  to  the  rude  insolence  of 
which  I  saw  myself  the  mark  —  was  insupportably  painful.  I 
felt,  besides,  that  I  had  a  character  to  support  in  her  eyes ; 
nor  could  I  yet  divine  what  adverse  turn  affairs  might  take. 
If  I  looked  down  the  table,  it  was  to  meet,  on  every  side, 
glances  of  haughty  or  insolent  meaning.  It  was  easy  to 
perceive,  too,  that  the  whole  company  was  under  the  im- 
pression of  the  disagreeable  incident  which  had  occurred 
before  sitting  down  to  table,  and  which  none  believed  was 
yet  concluded.  Instead  of  the  noisy  chit-chat  so  usual 
in  such  places,  there  was  either  a  perfect  silence,  or  the  low 
murmuring  sounds  of  a  conversation  maintained  in  whispers. 
At  last  the  colonel  and  those  around  him  stood  up,  and 
gathered  in  a  group  at  one  of  the  windows.     The  civilians 


320  SIR   JASPER  CAREW. 

of  the  party  broke  into  knots,  conversed  for  a  few  seconds, 
and  separated  ;  and,  taking  Margot's  hand,  I  arose,  and 
prepared  to  withdraw.  As  I  was  leaving  the  room  the 
officer  who  first  accosted  me,  whispered  in  my  ear,  — 

"  Yon  will  come  back  again,  I  suppose?" 

"  Certainly,  if  you  want  me,"  said  I. 

He  nodded,  and  I  passed  out. 

"I  am  glad  it  is  over,"  said  Margot,  pressing  my  hand; 
"  that  dinner  was  a  tiresome  affair  !  " 

"So  it  was,"  said  I ;  "  and  I  am  well  pleased  that  it  is 
finished.  I  '11  go  down  now  and  look  after  this  caleche  they 
promised  me  they  should  have  ready  for  us  by  this  time ;  " 
and  with  this  excuse  I  quitted  her,  and  hastened  downstairs 
again. 

I  was  just  making  for  the  door  of  the  salle-a-manger  when 
the  hostess  overtook  me. 

"  A  word  with  you,  monsieur,  — one  word  !  "  cried  she. 

"  At  another  moment,  madam,"  said  I,  trying  to  pass  on; 
"  I  am  greatly  pressed  for  time  just  now." 

"It  is  exactly  for  that  reason  I  must  speak  with  you," 
said  she,  firmly ;  and  at  the  same  instant  she  seized  my  arm 
and  drew  me  into  a  room,  of  which  she  closed  the  door  at 
once.  "  I  suspect  the  object  you  have  in  view,  young  man," 
said  she,  boldly,  to  me.  "  You  are  eager  for  a  quarrel.  The 
waiters  have  told  me  all  that  has  occurred  at  table ;  and  I 
can  guess  what  is  likely  to  follow.  But  surely  it  is  not  for 
one  in  her  position  that  you  will  risk  your  life,  or  rather  sell 
it ;  for  Carrier  would  surely  kill  you  !  " 

"  In  her  position !  "  said  I.  "  What  do  you  mean?  You 
cannot  dare  to  throw  an  imputation  on  one  who  is  little 
more  than  a  child  !  " 

"True;  but  a  child  of  shame  and  infamy,"  said  she, 
sternly. 

"  It  is  a  falsehood,  —  a  damnable  falsehood  !  "  cried  I. 
"I  knew  both  her  parents:  her  father  died  almost  in  my 
arms." 

"It  is  as  likely  that  you  never  saw  her  father  in  your  life," 
rejoined  she,  calml}'.  "I  see  that  you  know  little  of  her 
history ;  but  she  comes  from  the  village  of  Linange,  and  we 
Auvergnats  are  well  acquainted  with  her." 

"  Yes,  Linange  is  her  native  village,  —  that  is  true,"  cried 


THE   INN   AT   VALENCE.  321 

I,  in  a  vague  terror  of  some  dreadful  tidings.     "  Tell  me, 
I  beseech  you,  whatever  you  know  of  her  story." 

"It  is  soon  told,  though  the  tale  be  sad  enough,"  said 
she,  after  a  pause.  "  Her  mother  was  a  Mademoiselle 
Nipernois.  She  called  herself  De  Nipernois,  and  not  with- 
out reason ;  for  the  family  had  been  of  rank,  and  were 
Grand  Seigneurs  once  on  a  time.  Her  father  had,  however, 
fallen  into  poverty,  and  for  a  livelihood  was  obliged  to  be- 
come a  pharmacien  in  the  little  village  of  Linange,  every 
house  of  which  had  once  belonged  to  his  family.  They  said 
he  was  a  great  chemist,  which  he  had  become  for  his  own 
amusement  in  his  prosperous  days  ;  and  fortunately  he  could 
now  practise  the  art  for  his  support.  At  all  events,  the 
Blues  wrecked  his  chateau,  burned  his  books,  melted  down 
bis  plate,  and  left  him  penniless ;  so  that  he  was  fain  to 
seek  shelter  amidst  what  once  he  would  have  styled  his  own 
k  vilains,'  but  who  were  now,  thanks  to  the  glorious  fruits 
of  the  Revolution,  his  equals.  That  was  not  to  be  his  only 
humiliation,  however.  A  young  noble  that  was  betrothed 
to  his  eldest  daughter,  Hortense,  and  was  to  have  married 
her  just  before  '  the  troubles,'  joined  the  mildest  party  of 
the  anarchists,  and  actually  assisted  at  the  sack  of  the  cha- 
teau. Some  said  that  he  had  had  a  dreadful  altercation  and 
quarrel  with  the  father ;  some  averred  that  he  had  met  a 
contemptuous  refusal  from  the  daughter :  either,  or  both, 
may  have  been  the  truth.  What  is  certain  is,  that  he  exacted 
a  vengeance  far  heavier  than  any  injury  he  could  have  re- 
ceived. On  the  pretence  of  seeking  for  some  concealed  roy- 
alist, a  party  of  the  Blues,  headed  by  the  count,  in  disguise, 
broke  into  the  old  man's  house  in  the  village,  and  carried  off 
his  eldest  daughter,  —  indeed,  the  only  child  that  remained  to 
him  ;  for  his  second  girl  was  an  admitted  nun  of  the  Chaise 
Dieu,  which  had  hitherto  escaped  pillage  and  destruction. 
From  that  hour  no  trace  of  her  could  ever  be  obtained ;  but 
on  the  same  day  twelvemonths,  as  morning  broke,  she  was 
found  on  the  steps  of  her  father's  door,  with  a  baby  in  her 
arms.  I  have  heard,  for  I  have  often  spoken  with  those  who 
discovered  her,  that  her  reason  was  shattered,  and  her  mem- 
ory so  completely  lost  that  she  did  not  know  her  own  name. 
An  unbroken  apathy  settled  down  on  her  from  that  time. 
21 


322  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

She  cared  for  nothing,  not  even  her  child  ;  and  though  Mar- 
got  was  very  beautiful,  and  so  engaging  that  all  the  neigh- 
bors loved  and  caressed  her,  her  mother  saw  her  without  the 
slightest  touch  of  interest  or  affection !  After  the  lapse  of 
thirteen,  or  almost  fourteen  years,  a  young  man  of  the  village 
named  Bernois,  who  had  just  returned  from  studying  at 
Paris,  proposed  to  marry  her.  Some  are  of  opinion  that  he 
had  never  heard  her  real  history,  nor  knew  of  the  relationship 
between  her  and  Margot ;  others  think  differently,  and  say 
that  he  was  aware  of  all,  and  acquitted  her  of  everything 
save  the  misfortune  that  had  befallen  her.  By  what  persua- 
sion she  was  induced  to  accept  him  I  never  knew,  but  she 
did  so,  and  accompanied  him  to  Paris  ;  for,  strangely  enough, 
they  who  had  hitherto  treated  her  with  all  the  respect  due 
to  undeserved  calamity,  no  sooner  beheld  her  as  a  mar- 
ried woman,  and  lifted  into  a  position  of  equality  with  them, 
than  they  vented  a  hundred  calumnies  upon  her,  and  affected 
to  think  her  beneath  their  condition.  This  persecution  it 
was  which  drove  Bernois  to  seek  his  fortune  in  Paris,  where 
he  has  now  met  his  death !  The  conclucteur  who  arrived  here 
last  night  told  who  had  accompanied  him  from  Paris,  and 
the  officers,  who  are  all  familiar  with  her  mother's  story, 
were  curious  to  see  the  girl.  They  induced  me  to  advise  you 
to  dine  at  the  public  table,  and  unhappily  I  yielded  to  their 
solicitations,  not  suspecting  what  might  ensue.  The  only 
reparation  in  my  power  now  is  to  tell  you  this  whole  story ; 
for  of  course,  having  heard  it,  you  will  perceive  how  fruitless 
and  vain  it  would  be  for  you  to  oppose  yourself  to  the  entire 
force  of  public  opinion." 

"  And  is  it  the  custom  of  the  world  to  insult  those  situated 
as  she  is?"  asked  I,  in  a  voice  that  plainly  showed  I  put 
the  question  in  all  sincerity  and  ignorance. 

"  It  is  assuredly  the  habit  of  young  men,  and  more  espe- 
cially soldiers,  to  treat  them  with  less  deference  than  the 
daughters  of  honest  women ;  and  you  must  have  seen  but 
little  of  life,  or  you  had  not  asked  the  question." 

I  sat  silent  for  some  seconds,  revolving  in  my  mind  the 
sad  history  I  had  just  listened  to,  and  comparing  the  events 
with  what  I  had  myself  witnessed  of  her  who  had  been  their 
victim.     The  hostess  cut  short  my  musing  by  saying,  — 


THE   INN   AT   VALENCE.  323 

"  There,  I  see  the  caleche  has  just  driven  into  the  cour: 
lose  no  time  in  getting  away  at  ouce.  The  officers  are  now 
at  coffee  in  the  garden,  and  you  can  escape  unobserved." 

So  engrossed  was  I  by  thoughts  of  Margot,  and  the 
necessity  of  shielding  her  from  insult,  that  I  forgot  totally 
all  about  myself,  and  what  bore  reference  to  my  own  feel- 
ings exclusively.  I  therefore  hastened  from  the  room  to 
make  the  preparations  for  our  departure.  While  I  was  thus 
engaged,  and  occupied  with  seeing  our  luggage  tied  on,  a 
young  officer,  touching  his  cap  in  salute,  asked  if  I  was  not 
the  stranger  who  dined  that  day  at  the  table-d'hOte,  in  com- 
pany with  a  young  lady;  and  on  my  replying,  "Yes," 
added,  — 

"Are  you  not  aware,  sir,  that  we  have  been  expecting 
the  pleasure  of  your  society  in  the  garden  for  some  time 
back?" 

I  answered  that  I  was  totally  ignorant  of  their  polite 
intentions  respecting  me ;  that  I  was  anxious  to  reach  my 
destination,  still  twelve  leagues  away,  and  unable  to  accept 
of  their  hospitality. 

He  gave  a  faint  smile  as  I  said  this,  and  then  rejoined : 

"But  you  can  surely  spare  a  few  moments  to  make  your 
apologies  to  our  colonel?  " 

"  They  must  be,  then,  of  the  very  briefest,"  said  I. 
"  Will  you  kindly  guide  me  to  where  he  is?  " 

With  a  slight  bow  he  walked  on,  and,  crossing  the  court- 
yard, entered  a  garden  ;  on  traversing  a  considerable  portion 
of  which,  we  came  out  upon  a  kind  of  terrace,  where  a  large 
party  of  officers  were  seated  around  a  table,  smoking,  and 
drinking  coffee.  Some,  too,  were  engaged  playing  at  chess 
or  dominoes,  some  reading,  and  some  apparently  asleep ; 
but,  however  occupied,  no  sooner  had  I  made  my  appear- 
ance than  all,  forgetting  everything  but  my  presence,  turned 
their  eyes  upon  me. 

"  The  citizen,"  cried  out  my  guide,  as  we  came  up,  "  the 
citizen  tells  me  that  he  was  quite  unconscious  of  our  polite 
intentions  in  his  behalf;  and  I  can  fully  believe  him,  for  he 
was  on  the  eve  of  departure  \\  lien  ]  caught  him!  " 

"What  does  he  think  a  French  soldier  is  made  of?" 
shouted  out  the  colonel,  with  a  blow  of  his  closed  fist  on  the 


324  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

table.  "  He  dares  to  make  use  of  an  expression  insulting  to 
every  officer  of  my  regiment,  and  then  says  he  is  unaware  of 
any  claim  we  have  upon  him !  " 

A  new  light  broke  upon  me  at  these  words,  and,  for  a 
moment,  the  sense  of  shame  at  my  mistake  nearly  overcame 
me.     I  rallied,  however,  enough  to  say,  — 

"It  is  quite  as  you  say,  Monsieur  le  Colonel;  I  was 
really  unaware  that  you  or  your  officers  had  any  claim  upon 
me !  I  had  been  the  subject  of  a  rudeness  to-day,  at  the 
table-cl'h6te,  which,  in  my  little  knowledge  of  the  world,  I 
attributed  to  the  underbred  habits  of  a  coarse  school  of 
manners.  I  now  perceive  that  I  was  too  lenient  in  my 
judgment." 

"  Are  we  to  listen  to  any  more  of  this,  messieurs?  "  said 
the  colonel,  rising;  "or  is  it  from  me  that  chastisement  is  to 
come?  " 

"  No ;  I  have  the  right,  I  claim  the  place,  I  am  the  young- 
est subaltern,  I  am  the  '  cadet  of  the  corps,'  "  cried  half-a- 
dozen  in  a  breath ;  but  Carrier's  voice  overbore  the  others, 
saying,  — 

"  Comrades,  you  seem  to  forget  that  this  is  my  quarrel; 
I  will  not  yield  my  right  to  any  one !  " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  exclaimed  several  voices  together;  "  Carrier 
says  truly.  The  affair  is  his.  We  fight  with  the  sabre, 
citizen,  in  the  Chasseurs-a-Cheval.  Is  the  weapon  to  your 
liking?" 

"  One  arm  is  the  same  to  me  as  another,"  replied  I;  and 
unfortunately  this  was  too  literally  the  case,  since  I  was 
equally  inexpert  in  all ! 

"You  can  claim  the  pistol,  if  you  wish  it,"  whispered  an 
old  captain,  with  a  snow-white  moustache.  "  The  challenged 
chooses  his  weapons." 

"  The  sabre  be  it,  then,"  exclaimed  Carrier,  catching  me 
up  at  once. 

"Not  if  the  citizen  prefer  the  pistol,"  interposed  the 
captain. 

' '  He  has  already  made  his  choice :  he  said  all  weapons 
were  alike  to  him." 

"  Quite  true,"  said  I ;   "I  did  say  so  !  " 

"  The  greater  fool  you,  then ! "    murmured   the  captain, 


THE  INN  AT  VALENCE.  325 

between  his  teeth.  "  You  might  just  as  well  have  given 
yourself  your  chance.  Carrier  won't  be  so  generous  to 
you  !  " 

"  Will  you  be  my  second?"  asked  I  of  him. 

"  Ma  foil  if  you  wish  it,"  said  he,  with  a  shrug  of  the 
shoulders  and  a  glance  of  such  tender  pity  that  could  not  be 
mistaken.     "Let  us  follow  them!" 

And  so  saying,  we  strolled  leisurely  on  after  the  others, 
who,  now  passing  through  a  small  wicket,  entered  a  little 
wood  that  adjoined  the  garden.  A  few  minutes  more 
brought  us  to  an  open  space,  which  I  rightly  guessed  had 
been  often  before  the  scene  of  similar  affairs. 

I  had  never  witnessed  a  duel  in  my  life.  I  knew  nothing 
of  the  formalities  which  were  observed  in  its  arrangement ; 
and  the  questions  which  I  asked  the  captain  so  palpably 
betrayed  my  ignorance  that  he  stared  at  me  with  mute 
astonishment. 

"Have  you  any  friends,  boy,"  asked  he,  after  a  pause, 
"to  whom  I  can  write  for  you?" 

"  Not  one,"  said  I. 

"  All  the  better!  "  rejoined  he,  tersely. 

I  nodded  an  assent ;  and  from  that  moment  we  understood 
each  other  perfectly.  Xo  lengthy  explanation  could  more 
plainly  have  declared  that  he  thought  I  was  doomed,  and 
that  I  concurred  in  the  foreboding. 

••My  sabre  will  be  too  heavy  for  you,  boy,"  said  he; 
"  I  '11  see  and  borrow  a  lighter  one  from  one  of  my  comrades. 
Chasteler,  will  you  lend  me  yours  ?  " 

"  Parbleu!  that  will  I  not.  I'd  never  wear  it  again  if 
used  in  such  a  quarrel." 

"  Right,  Chasteler,"  cried  another;  "I  hope  there  is  only 
one  amongst  us  could  forget  an  insult  offered  to  the  whole 
regiment." 

"I  wore  my  epaulette  when  you  were  in  the  cradle,  Lieu- 
tenant Hautmain,"  said  the  old  captain;  "  so  don't  pretend 
to  teach  me  the  feelings  that  become  a  soldier.  There, 
boy,"  he  added,  drawing  his  sabre  as  he  spoke,  "  take 
mine." 

By  this  time  my  antagonist  had  divested  himself  of  coat 
and  neckcloth,  and  stood,  with  open  shirt-breasl  and  the 
sleeve  of  his  sword-arm  rolled  up  to  the  shoulder,  before  me. 


326  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

He  was  as  much  an  overmatch  for  me  in  strength  and  vigor 
as  in  skill,  and  I  felt  an  acute  sense  of  shame  in  pitting 
myself  against  him.  As  he  swung  his  sabre  jauntily  to  and 
fro  with  the  dexterous  facility  of  a  practised  swordsman,  I 
could  read  the  confidence  with  which  he  entered  upon  the 
encounter. 

"It  is  the  first  time  you  ever  handled  a  sword,  I  think?" 
said  the  captain,  as  he  assisted  me  off  with  my  coat. 

"The  very  first,"  said  I,  endeavoring,  I  know  not  how 
successfully,  to  smile. 

"Parbleu!"  cried  he,  aloud.  "This  is  no  better  than  a 
murder  !  The  boy  knows  nothing  of  fencing  ;  he  never  had 
a  sabre  in  his  hands  till  now." 

"  He  should  have  thought  of  that  before  he  uttered  an 
insult,"  said  Carrier,  placing  himself  en  garde.  "  Come  on, 
boy !  " 

The  offensive  look  and  manner  in  which  he  spoke  so  car- 
ried me  away  that  I  rushed  in,  and  aimed  a  cut  at  his  head. 
He  parried  it,  and  came  down  with  a  sharp  stroke  on  my 
shoulder,  exclaiming,  "fa/  "  as  he  did  it.  The  same  word 
followed  every  time  that  he  touched  me ;  nor  did  it  require 
the  easy  impertinence  of  the  glances  he  gave  towards  his 
comrades  to  show  that  he  was  merely  amusing  himself ;  as, 
at  one  moment,  he  covered  my  face  with  blood,  and  at 
another  disarmed  me  by  a  severe  wound  on  the  wrist. 

"  Enough  of  this,  —  too  much  of  it !  "  cried  the  captain,  as 
the  blood  streamed  down  my  cheeks  from  a  cut  on  the  fore- 
head, and  almost  blinded  me. 

"When  he  says  so,  it  will  be  time  to  stop,  —  not  till 
then,"  said  Carrier,  as  he  gave  me  a  sharp  cut  on  the 
neck. 

My  rage  so  overpowered  me  at  this  that  I  lost  all  control 
over  myself ;  and,  resolviug  to  finish  the  struggle  at  once,  I 
sprang  at  him,  and,  with  both  hands  on  my  sword,  made  a 
cut  at  his  head.  The  force  was  such  that  the  blow  broke 
down  his  guard  and  felled  him  to  the  earth,  with  a  tremen- 
dous wound  of  the  scalp;  and  there  he  lay,  stunned  and 
senseless,  while,  scarcely  more  conscious,  I  stood  over  him. 
Passion  had  up  to  that  sustained  me ;  but  loss  of  blood  and 
exhaustion  now  succeeded  together,  and  I  reeled  back  and 
fainted. 


THE   INN   AT  VALENCE.  327 

Though  terribly  hacked  and  sorely  treated,  none  of  my 
wounds  were  dangerous ;  and  after  being  bandaged,  and 
stitched,  and  plastered  in  various  ways,  I  was  able  —  or  at 
least  insisted  that  I  was  able  —  to  pursue  my  journey  that 
evening ;  and  away  we  drove,  with  no  very  grateful  recol- 
lection of  Valence,  except,  indeed,  towards  the  old  captain, 
who  saw  us  off,  and  took  a  most  affectionate  leave  of  us 
at  parting. 

Margot  had  heard  from  the  hostess  enough  to  show  her 
that  I  had  been  her  champion  and  defender,  though  in  what 
cause  she  could  not  possibly  divine.  Whatever  her  anxiety 
to  learn  the  facts,  she  never  put  a  single  question  to  me  as 
we  went  along,  her  sole  care  being  to  do  whatever  might 
assuage  my  pain  and  alleviate  my  suffering.  Thanks  to  this 
kindness,  and  the  cool  air  of  an  autumn  night,  I  travelled 
with  comparatively  little  uneasiness  ;  and  as  day  was  break- 
ing we  entered  the  quiet  street  of  the  little  village. 

"  There,  yonder  is  our  house,  —  the  porch  with  the 
jasmine  over  it.     Oh,  how  the  rose-trees  have  grown !  " 

Such  was  Margot's  exclamation,  as  we  drew  up  at  the 
door. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


I  do  not  know  how  far  other  men's  experiences  will  corrobo- 
rate the  opinion,  but  for  myself  I  will  say  that  more  than 
once  has  it  occurred  to  me  to  remark  that  some  of  the 
most  monotonous  periods  of  my  life  have  been  those  to 
which  I  often  look  back  with  the  greatest  pleasure,  and 
love  to  think  over  as  amongst  the  happiest.  The  time  I 
passed  at  Linange  was  one  of  these.  Nothing  could  be 
more  simple,  nothing  more  uniform  than  our  life  there. 
The  unhappy  circumstance  to  which  I  have  already  alluded 
had  completely  estranged  from  the  family  any  of  those  with 
whom  they  might  have  associated.  From  some,  the  former 
rank  and  condition  of  the  house  separated  them ;  from 
others  they  were  removed  by  political  bias ;  and  to  the 
rest,  the  event  of  which  I  have  already  spoken  was  the 
barrier.  Thus,  then,  was  our  life  passed  within  the  limits 
of  an  humble  household  of  four  persons.  The  old  Marquis 
—  for  such  was  he  still  styled  by  us  —  was  a  fine  specimen 
of  the  class  to  which  he  belonged  :  proud  and  stately  in 
manner,  but  courteous  almost  to  humility  in  his  bearing  to 
one  beneath  his  roof.  Unbroken  by  misfortune,  he  trusted 
that  —  although  not  in  his  time  —  the  world  would  yet  re- 
turn to  its  ancient  course,  and  the  good  king  4i  have  his 
own  again."  His  personal  calamities  sat  lightly  on  him, 
or,  rather,  he  bore  them  bravely.  If  he  spoke  of  his  former 
state  and  position,  it  was  in  regret  for  those  faithful  fol- 
lowers he  could  no  longer  support,  — not  for  himself,  whose 
wants  were  few,  and  whose  habits  demanded  no  luxuries. 
In  the  calling  that  he  practised  for  his  maintenance,  he  saw 
rather  an  occasion  for  pride  than  humiliation.  There  was 
but  one  topic  from  which  he  shrunk  back  ;   nor  could  all  his 


LINANGE.  329 

courage  enable  him  to  approach  that.  When  I  first  saw 
him,  it  was  after  a  severe  attack  brought  on  by  the  dread- 
ful tidings  from  Paris ;  and  yet  his  composure  seemed  to 
me  almost  bordering  on  indifference,  and  I  half  revolted 
against  the  calm  elegance  of  a  good-breeding  that  seemed 
above  the  reach  of  all  feeling.  Ursule  was  a  "  nun;  "  and 
whether  the  walls  around  her  were  those  of  a  cloister  or  a 
cottage,  her  heart  was  enclosed  within  the  observances  of 
the  convent.  She  rose  hours  before  daybreak,  to  pass  her 
time  in  prayer  and  solitude.  She  fasted,  and  toiled,  and 
observed  penances,  exactly  as  if  beneath  the  rule  of  the 
Superior.  She  had  been  singularly  handsome,  and  there 
was  still  a  character  of  beauty  in  her  features,  to  which 
her  devotional  life  imparted  an  expression  of  sublimity 
such  as  I  have  never  seen  even  in  a  "  Raphael."  Suffering 
and  sorrow  seemed  so  blended  with  hopefulness  —  present 
agony  so  tinctured  with  a  glorious  future  —  that,  to  me  at 
least,  she  appeared  almost  angelic. 

As  for  "  Margot,"  child  as  she  was,  the  whole  care  of  the 
household  devolved  upon  her.  The  humblest  menage  is  not 
without  its  duties,  and  to  these  she  addressed  herself  at 
once.  It  was  on  the  day  after  my  arrival,  and  while  just 
meditating  a  return  to  Paris,  that  symptoms  of  fever  first 
showed  themselves,  and  a  severe  shivering,  followed  by 
intense  headache,  showed  me  that  I  was  not  to  escape  the 
consequences  of  my  unhappy  encounter.  Ursule,  whose  ex- 
perience in  hosoital  life  had  been  considerable,  was  the  first 
to  see  the  mischief  that  threatened,  and  at  once  persuaded 
me  to  submit  to  treatment.  The  old  Marquis  was  soon  at 
my  bedside,  but  as  quickly  did  he  perceive  that  the  case  was 
beyond  his  skill.  The  surgeon  of  the  village  was  now  sent 
for ;  he  bled  me  largely,  dressed  my  wounds,  administered 
some  cooling  drink,  and  then  left  me  to  that  terrible  inter- 
val which  precedes  mania,  and  when  the  enfeebled  intel- 
lect struggles  for  mastery  against  the  force  of  wandering 
faculties. 

In  my  wild  fancies,  all  the  incidents  of  my  early  days,  the 
little  adventures  of  boyhood,  my  mountain  ramble,  and  my 
life  in  Paris,  came  back,  and  T  talked  with  intense  eager- 
ness to  those   around  me  of  them  all.     Short   intervals  of 


330  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

consciousness,  like  gleams  of  sunlight  in  a  lowering  sky, 
would  break  through  these,  and  then  I  saw  beside  the  bed 
the  kind  faces,  and  heard  the  gentle  accents,  of  my  friends. 
"Ursule"  and  "  Margot "  scarcely  ever  left  me.  In  the 
dark  hours  of  the  long  night,  if  a  weary  sigh  escaped  me, 
one  of  them  was  sure  to  be  near  to  ask  if  I  was  in  pain  or 
if  I  needed  anything.  How  often  have  I  turned  away  from 
these  gentle  questionings  to  hide  my  face  within  my  hands 
and  cry,  not  in  sorrow,  but  in  a  thankful  outpouring  of  emo- 
tion, that  I,  the  poor  unfriended,  uncared-for  orphan,  should 
be  thus  watched,  and  tended,  and  loved ! 

It  was  not  till  after  a  lapse  of  weeks  that  I  was  pro- 
nounced out  of  danger,  nor  even  till  long  after  that  that  I 
could  arise  from  my  bed.  Shall  I  ever  forget  the  strange 
confusion  of  ideas  that  beset  me  as  I  first  found  myself 
alone  one  morning  in  the  little  garden,  scarcely  knowing  if  I 
was  still  dreaming,  or  if  all  was  reality  around  me  !  "Where 
was  I?  how  came  I  there?  were  questions  that  I  could  not 
follow  to  a  solution.  Some  resemblance  in  the  scenery  with 
the  country  around  Reichenau  assisted  the  mystification,  and 
from  the  entanglement  of  my  thoughts  no  effort  could  rescue 
me.  As,  one  by  one,  memories  of  the  past  came  up,  there 
came  with  them  the  sad  reflection  of  my  own  lonely,  isolated 
condition  in  life.  The  humblest  had  a  home  —  had  those 
around  them  to  whose  love  and  affection  they  could  lay 
claim  as  from  blood  and  kindred  —  who  bore  the  same  name, 
were  supported  by  the  same  hopes,  cheered  by  the  same 
joys,  and  sorrowed  for  the  same  sufferings !  It  was  true 
that  no  affection  a  sister  could  bestow  could  exceed  that  I 
had  met  with  where  I  was.  There  was  not  a  kindness  of 
which  I  had  not  been  the  object.  Was  I,  could  I,  be  un- 
grateful for  these?  Far  from  it! — my  melancholy  lay  in 
the  thought  that  these  were  the  very  evidences  of  my  own 
forlorn  lot,  and  that  compassion  and  pity  were  the  senti- 
ments that  prompted   them  in  my  behalf. 

I  knew,  besides,  that  in  my  long  illness  I  must  have 
proved  a  grievous  burden  to  those  whose  own  circumstances 
were  straitened  to  the  utmost  limit  of  narrow  fortune.  I 
saw  about  me  comforts,  even  luxuries,  that  must  have  cost 
many  a  privation  to  acquire.     I  felt  that,  in  succoring  me, 


LINANGE.  331 

the}'  had  imposed  upon  themselves  the  weight  of  many  a  fu- 
ture want.  These  were  afflicting  considerations,  nor  could 
all  my  ingenuity  discover  one  resource  against  them.  I  was 
still  too  weak  to  walk  ;  my  limbs  tottered  under  me  as  I 
went.  Perhaps  it  were  better  it  had  been  so,  since  I  really 
believe  if  I  had  had  strength  sutlicient  for  the  effort,  notwith- 
standing all  the  shame  that  might  attach  to  my  ingratitude, 
I  should  have  tied  from  the  house  that  moment,  never  to 
return  !  It  was  in  the  abandonment  of  grief  arising  from 
these  thoughts  that  "Ursule"  discovered  me.  With  what 
tenderness  did  she  rally  my  drooping  spirits ;  how  gently 
did  she  chide  my  faint-heartedness ! 

"You  must  rise  above  these  things,  Jasper,"  said  she  to 
me.  "  You  must  learn  to  see  that  the  small  ills  of  life  are 
difficult  to  be  borne  just  because  they  suggest  no  high 
purpose." 

And  from  this  she  went  on  to  tell  me  of  the  noble  devo- 
tion of  the  missionary,  the  splendid  enthusiasm  that  ele- 
vated men  above  every  thought  of  peril,  and  taught  them  to 
court  danger  and  confront  suffering.  How  mean  and  sor- 
did did  she  represent  every  other  ambition  in  comparison 
with  this !  How  ignoble  was  the  soldier's  heroism  when 
placed  beside  the  martyrdom  of  the  priest!  With  consum- 
mate art  she  displayed  before  my  boyish  fancy  all  that  was 
attractive,  all  that  was  picturesque,  in  the  missionary's  life. 
To  glowing  descriptions  of  scenery  and  savage  life  succeeded 
touching  episodes  of  deep  interest  and  passages  of  tenderest 
emotions,  the  power  of  the  Church  —  whether  as  consoler  or 
comforter,  as  healing  the  sick  or  supporting  the  weak-hearted 
—  being  never  forgotten.  If  she  saw  that  my  mind  dwelt 
with  pleasure  on  pictures  of  splendor,  she  lingered  on  scenes 
of  greatness  and  royal  power,  when  priests  associated  with 
monarchs  as  their  guides  and  counsellors.  If,  at  another 
moment,  the  romance  seemed  to  engage  my  attention,  she 
narrated  incidents  of  the  most  affecting  kind.  At  these 
moments  it  was  strange  to  mark  how  the  cold  and  almost 
stern  reserve  of  the  cloister  seemed  lost  in  the  glowing 
enthusiasm  of  the  devotee.  It  was  not  the  nun  broken 
clown  by  fasting,  wasted  by  penance,  and  subdued  by 
prayer,    but   the   almost   inspired  daughter  of  the  Church, 


332  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

glorying  and  exulting  in  its  triumph.  She  gave  me  books 
to  read,  —  lives  of  saints  and  martyrs,  of  devoted  mission- 
aries and  pious  fathers.  If  in  some  instances  the  suffer- 
ings they  endured  seemed  more  than  mere  humanity  could 
support,  the  triumphant  joy  of  their  victories  appeared  to 
partake  of  a  celestial  brilliancy.  Day  by  day,  hour  by 
hour,  did  she  pursue  the  theme,  till  the  subject,  like  a  river 
fed  by  a  thousand  rills,  overflowed  all  else  in  my  mind, 
and  left  no  room  for  aught  but  itself. 

It  was  not  difficult  for  her  to  show  that  the  frightful  con- 
dition of  France  at  the  period  —  its  lawless  confiscations,  its 
pillage,  and  its  bloodshed  —  all  dated  from  the  extinction  of 
the  Church.  The  task  was  an  easy  one  to  contrast  past 
peace  aud  happiness  with  present  anarchy  and  suffering.  I 
reflected  long  and  deeply  on  the  subject.  If  doubts  assailed 
me,  I  came  to  her  to  solve  them  ;  if  difficulties  embarrassed 
me,  I  asked  her  to  explain  tbem.  I  applied  the  question  to 
the  circumstances  of  my  own  position  in  life,  and  began  to 
believe  that  it  was  exactly  the  career  to  suit  me.  I  eagerly 
inquired,  next,  how  the  fitting  education  might  be  obtained, 
and  learned  that  since  the  destruction  of  the  religious  socie- 
ties of  France  and  the  Low  Countries,  many  had  emigrated 
to  Spain  and  Italy,  and  some  to  England.  Sister  "  Ursule  " 
was  in  correspondence  with  more  than  one  of  these,  and 
promised  to  obtain  all  the  information  I  sought  for ;  mean- 
while, she  besought  me  to  devote  my  whole  mind  and 
thoughts  to  these  sacred  subjects,  withdrawing,  so  far  as  I 
might,  all  my  desires  and  ambition  from  the  world. 

Margot,  I  am  obliged  to  own,  contributed  but  little  to 
aid  my  pious  purpose ;  her  gay  and  joyous  nature  had  no 
sympathy  with  asceticism  and  restraint.  The  poets  and 
dramatists,  whose  works  she  read  in  secret,  inspired  very 
different  thoughts  from  the  subject  of  my  studies ;  her  child- 
ish buoyancy  could  not  endure  the  weight  of  that  gloom  which 
a  life  of  denial  imposes ;  and  whenever  we  were  alone 
together,  she  rallied  me  on  my  newly  assumed  seriousness  as 
on  a  costume  which  I  would  soon  discover  to  be  insufferable. 

I  dwell  on  these  things,  trifling  as  they  are,  because  they 
convey  the  curious  conflict  which  my  mind  sustained  at  this 


LINAXGE.  333 

tendencies  natural  to  my  age,  and  the  impulses  that  grew  out 
of  a  sudden  enthusiasm.  Perhaps  I  might  not  care  to  recall 
them,  if  it  was  not  that  they  remind  me  of  Margot  such  as 
I  then  remember  her.  I  see  her  before  me  :  her  dark  eyes, 
flashing  with  daring  brilliancy,  dropped  in  a  half-rebellious 
submission,  her  changing  color,  her  fair  and  open  brow,  her 
beautiful  mouth,  with  all  its  varying  expression,  her  very 
gait,  haughty  even  in-its  girlish  gayety,  —  all  rise  to  my  mind's 
eye  ;  and  I  feel  even  yet  within  me  the  remembrance  of  that 
strange  distrust  and  bashfulness  with  which  I  endeavored  to 
reply  to  her  witty  sallies,  and  recall  her  to  a  seriousness  like 
my  own  !  I  was  no  hypocrite,  and  yet  she  half  hinted  that  I 
was ;  neither  was  it  a  dash  of  thoughtless  enthusiasm  that 
carried  me  away,  though  she  often  said  so.  It  was  the 
very  reverse  of  vanity  or  self-exaltation,  —  it  was  humility 
that  prompted  me  to  devote  myself  to  a  career  from  which 
others  might  have  been  withheld  by  the  ties  of  home  and 
affection. 

"  You  forget,  Margot,"  cried  I  one  daj7,  when  she  bantered 
me  beyond  endurance,  "  that  I  am  already  an  idle  and  home- 
less being,  without  one  on  earth  to  love  me !  " 

"  But  I  love  you,  Jasper!  "  said  she,  seizing  my  hand  and 
pressing  it  to  her  lips ;  and  then,  as  suddenly  dropping  it, 
she  became  pale  as  death,  and  staggered  as  if  falling.  I 
caught  her  in  my  arms ;  but  she  disengaged  herself  at  once, 
and,  with  her  hands  pressed  closely  over  her  face,  fled  from 
the  spot. 

From  that  day  she  never  jested  with  me,  nor  even  alluded 
to  my  choice  of  a  career.  She,  I  fancied,  even  avoided 
being  alone  with  me  as  she  used  to  be ;  the  playful  tricks  she 
had  indulged  in  of  hiding  my  serious  books,  or  substituting 
for  them  others  of  a  very  different  kind,  were  all  abandoned. 
Her  whole  manner  and  bearing  were  changed,  nor  could 
I  fail  to  see  that  there  was  no  longer  between  us  the  cor- 
dial frankness  that  hitherto  united  us.  If  this  were,  in  one 
respect,  a  source  of  sorrow  to  me,  in  another  there  was  a 
strange,  secret  charm  in  that  reserve  so  full  of  meaning,  — 
in  that  shyness  so  suggestive ! 

Up  to  that  time  I  had  been  in  the  habit  of  reading  with 
her  some  part  of  every  day.     My  school-learning,  such  as 


334  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

it  was,  was  yet  fresh  in  my  memory,  and  I  was  delighted 
to  have  a  pupil  so  gifted  and  intelligent;  but  from  this 
time  forth  she  never  resumed  her  studies,  but  pretended 
a  variety  of  occupations  as  excuses.  I  know  not,  I  cannot 
even  speculate,  on  how  this  might  have  ended,  when  a 
sudden  change  of  events  gave  a  decisive  turn  to  my 
destinies. 

The  batonnier  who  had  so  kindly  undertaken  to  look 
after  the  little  remnant  of  Monsieur  Bernois'  fortune  was 
no  less  prompt  than  he  had  promised.  He  made  all  the 
arrangements  required  by  law,  and  corresponded  with  me 
on  each  step  of  the  proceedings.  In  one  of  these  letters 
was  a  postscript  containing  these  words :  "Is  it  true  that 
you  have  had  a  serious  rencontre  with  a  captain  of  the 
Chasseurs-a-Cheval  who  is  still  in  danger  from  the  wound 
he  received?"  Before  my  reply  to  this  question  could  have 
reached  him,  came  the  following  brief  note :  — 

"  My  dear  Monsieur  Carew,  —  I  learned  late  last  night  the 
whole  circumstances  of  the  adventure  of  which  I  had  asked  an 
explanation  from  you  by  my  letter  of  Tuesday.  The  affair  is  a 
most  unhappy  one  on  every  account,  but  on  none  more  than  the 
fact  that  your  antagonist  was  Captain  Carrier,  the  brother  of  the 
celebrated  member  of  the  Constituent  of  that  name.  I  need 
scarcely  remind  you  that  his  friends,  numerous  and  influential 
as  they  are,  are  now  your  bitterest  enemies.  They  are  at  this 
moment  busily  employed  in  making  searches  into  your  previous 
life  and  habits ;  and  should  all  other  sources  of  accusation  fail, 
will  inevitably  make  your  nationality  the  ground  of  attack,  and 
perhaps  denounce  you  as  a  spy  of  the  English  Government.  The 
source  from  which  I  obtained  this  information  leaves  no  doubt 
of  its  correctness,  as  you  will  acknowledge  when  I  add  that  it 
enables  me  to  forward  to  you,  by  this  enclosure,  a  passport  for 
England,  under  the  name  of  Bernard.  I  also  transmit  a  bank 
order  for  one  thousand  francs,  which  I  beg  you  will  use  freely, 
as  if  your  own,  and  part  of  a  fund,  the  remainder  of  which  I  will 
take  an  early  opportunity  of  placing  in  your  hands.  The  hurried 
nature  of  my  present  communication  prevents  me  adding  more 
than  that  I  am,  very  faithfully,  your  friend." 

His  initials  alone  were  inscribed  at  the  foot  of  this  most 
extraordinary  epistle.    I  hastened  to  show  it  to  the  Marquis, 


LINANGE.  335 

who,  on  learning  the  name  of  the  writer,  pronounced  him 
uue  of  the  first  men  at  the  French  bar. 

"  The  warning  of  such  a  man,"  said  he,  "  must  not  be 
neglected  ;  and  although  Carrier's  faction  have  fallen,  who 
can  answer  what  to-morrow  may  bring  forth?  At  all  events, 
vour  position  as  an  alien  is  highly  perilous,  and  you  must 
see  to  your  safety  at  once." 

As  for  the  concluding  portion  of  the  letter,  he  could  not 
assist  me  to  any  explanation  of  it.  The  nearest  approach 
to  elucidation  was,  that  many  of  the  leading  lawyers  of 
Paris  were  frequently  selected  by  their  clients  as  deposita- 
ries of  property,  and  that  it  was  just  possible  such  had 
been  the  case  here. 

With  this  meagre  suggestion  he  left  me,  and  I  proceeded, 
with  a  heavy  heart,  to  make  my  preparations  for  departure. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

HAVRE. 

The  diligence  passed  our  door,  and  the  conductor  had  orders 
to  stop  and  take  me  up,  as  he  went  by.  That  supper  was  a 
sorrowful  meal  to  all  of  us.  They  had  come  to  think  of  me 
as  one  of  themselves,  and  I  felt  as  if  I  was  about  to  part  with 
the  last  who  would  ever  befriend  me. 

There  was  but  little  said  on  any  side,  and  none  of  us  ven- 
tured on  a  word  alluding  to  my  departure.  At  last  the  old 
Marquis,  laying  his  hand  on  my  shoulder,  said,  — 

"  These  are  not  days  in  which  one  can  trust  to  the  post, 
Jasper ;  but  if  ever  the  occasion  offer  of  letting  us  hear  of 
you  by  other  means,  you  '11  not  neglect  it." 

"  The  Pere  Tonsurd  will  manage  this  for  you,"  broke  in 
Ursule.  "He  knows  how  to  communicate,  when,  and  with 
whom  he  pleases." 

"  But  how  am  I  to  meet  with  him?"  asked  I. 

"  This  is  his  address,  and  this  letter  will  introduce  you," 
said  she,  giving  me  a  carefully-folded  and  well-sealed  packet. 
"  Make  a  friend  of  him,  Jasper,  and  your  happiness  will  be 
the  reward." 

I  thought  that  Margot's  lip  was  upturned  at  these  words, 
with  a  faint  expression  of  disdainful  meaning ;  but  I  may 
easily  have  been  deceived,  for  as  I  looked  again,  her  features 
were  calm  and  unmoved. 

"  The  Pere,"  resumed  Ursule,  "  was  superintendent  of  the 
'  Chaise  Dieu,'  and  removed  to  be  a  Professor  at  Namur. 
He  is  a  man  of  high  acquirements  and  sincere  piety,  but  his 
great  characteristic  is  his  humility.  With  a  tenth  of  the 
ambition  that  others  possess,  he  had  been  a  Prince  of  the 
Church." 


HAVRE.  337 

Margot's  eyes  were  downcast  as  this  was  spoken,  so  that 
I  could  not  detect  how  the  speech  affected  her ;  but  again  it 
struck  me  that  her  mouth  was  moved  with  an  expression  of 
scorn. 

"  There !  I  hear  the  horn  of  the  postilion  ;  you  have  n't  a 
moment  to  lose  !  "  cried  Ursule. 

A  fond,  close  embrace  with  each  in  turn,  and  a  whispered 
word  from  Margot  which  I  tried  in  vain  to  catch,  and  I  was 
gone  !  I  buried  my  head  between  my  hands  in  shame,  for  I 
was  crying  bitterly,  and  never  looked  up  till  we  were  far 
away  from  the  village,  and  traversing  a  wide,  open  country, 
with  great  undulating  fields  of  corn,  and  few  traces  of 
habitation. 

"  Come,  come,  be  a  man,"  broke  in  the  conducfeur,  with  a 
rough  good-humor.  "  You  're  not  the  first  who  had  to  leave 
his  home  for  the  conscription,  and  some  have  gone  back  chefs- 
cPescadron,  afterwards." 

I  accepted  the  part  he  thus  erringly  assigned  me,  and  let 
him  run  on  about  all  the  fortunes  and  chances  of  a  soldier's 
life, 

If  his  conversation  did  not  divert  my  thoughts,  it  at  least 
suffered  me  to  pursue  them  unmolested  ;  and  so  I  travelled 
along  through  the  whole  of  that  night  and  the  following  day, 
seldom  speaking,  or  only  in  half  mechanical  assent  to  some 
remark  of  my  companion. 

"  They  '11  want  to  see  your  passport  here,  citizen,"  said  he, 
as  we  approached  the  gate  of  a  fortified  town;  "  so  get  it 
ready,  and  don't  delay  the  authorities." 

A  few  minutes  more  brought  us  to  the  outworks  of  a  for- 
tification, passing  through  which,  we  crossed  a  drawbridge, 
over  a  deep  moat,  and  entered  a  long,  dark  archway.  Here 
the  diligence  drew  up,  and  the  passengers  were  ordered  to 
descend.  I  overheard  the  conducteur  say  the  word  "con- 
script," and  began  to  fear  that  he  used  it  in  relation  to  me, 
when  suddenly  the  official,  opening  my  passport,  called  out: 

"  Which  of  you  is  the  citizen  Bernard?  " 

I  at  once  remembered  that  it  was  the  name  I  had  recruited 
under,  and  answered,  "  It  is  I." 

"  Step  inside  here,"  said  he,  civilly;  "  I  have  some  direc- 
tions with  respect  to  you." 

22 


338  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

I  walked  into  a  small  chamber  off  the  public  room,  when, 
having  carefully  closed  the  door,  he  said,  — 

"  So  you  are  going  over  to  England,  monsieur?  " 

The  last  word  was  accented  deeply,  and  with  an  emphasis 
meant  to  show  that  he  who  used  it  proclaimed  himself  no 
partisan  of  republican  principles,  but  one  who  held  to  the 
ancient  habits  of  the  monarchy. 

The  manners  of  the  time  suggested  distrust  on  all  sides, 
and  I  answered,  guardedly,  that  I  had  some  intention  of  vis- 
itiug  England. 

"You  will  see  them,  then,"  resumed  he,  "and  even  that 
much  is  a  blessing  in  itself !  How  do  I  envy  you !  Ah, 
monsieur,  if  the  name  should  not  escape  you,  will  you  try 
and  remember  Claude  Mirepois  ?  My  father  was  head  postil- 
ion in  the  royal  stables,  and  enjoyed  his  pension  to  his 
death ;  and  I  was  educated  by  order  of  the  princes,  and  was 
to  have  been  in  the  household  too." 

"Are  we  all  right  and  regular,  citizen?"  broke  in  the 
conducteur,  putting  in  his  head. 

"All  right — quite  right,  citizen  Guichemar,"  said  the 
other,  in  some  confusion.  "These  are  ticklish  times;  I 
was  anxious  to  see  that  this  youth's  pass  was  regular." 

"  Parbleu !  a  conscript  is  always  en  regie,"  said  the  other, 
laughing,  and  so  hurried  me  away  to  the  diligence ;  and  once 
more  we  rattled  along  on  our  journey. 

The  whole  of  that  night  my  mind  dwelt  upon  this  inci- 
dent. Amongst  the  various  parties  that  disputed  for  pre- 
eminence in  the  country,  I  had  never  heard  of  any  professing 
royalist  principles,  except  the  Vendeans ;  nor  had  I  the 
slightest  suspicion  that  many  concealed  monarchists  held 
places  of  trust  under  the  government  of  the  republic. 

At  Havre,  I  discovered  that  the  measures  of  the  police 
were  of  the  very  strictest  kind,  and  that  to  obtain  a  per- 
mission to  embark,  it  was  necessary  to  have  a  reference  to 
some  citizen  of  the  town,  who  should  stand  guarantee  for 
your  loyalty  and  integrity.  Now,  I  had  never  been  there 
before ;  I  knew  none,  not  even  by  name ;  and  what  was 
I  to  do?  Great  as  my  difficulty  was,  I  did  not  suffer  it  to 
appear  so  to  the  commissary,  but  calmly  said  that  I  'd 
return  to  my  hotel,  and  run  my  eye  over  a  list  of  the  mer- 
chants for  one  to  be  my  bail. 


HAVRE.  339 

The  packet  was  to  sail  that  evening  with  the  tide ;  and  as 
the  office  of  the  comrnissaire  closed  at  four  o'clock,  there 
was  little  time  to  lose.  I  wandered  on  from  street  to  street ; 
I  walked  into  cafes ;  I  sat  down  in  the  most  public  places, 
scanning  with  eagerness  every  face  that  passed  me,  and 
straining  my  eyes  to  try  and  detect  the  features  of  an  ac- 
quaintance. The  pursuit  became  at  length  a  perfect  farce, 
and  I  hurried  to  and  fro  with  a  burning  brain,  and  a  restless 
impatience  that  was  almost  maddening. 

' '  Parbleu !  this  is  the  fourth  time  you  've  been  in  here 
to-day,"  cried  a  short,  thickset  man,  past  the  prime  of  life, 
and  who  kept  a  sort  of  slop-shop  near  the  quay.  "What 
do  you  want  with  me,  my  lad  ?  " 

I  was  turning  to  leave  the  spot  without  replying,  when  he 
closed  the  half-door  of  his  shop,  and  placed  his  back  against 
it, 

"  Come,  my  friend,  you  shall  certainly  say  what  has 
brought  you  here,  ere  you  get  away  this  time." 

"  I  am  in  search  of  some  one,  —  I  am  looking  for  one  of 
my  acquaintances,"  said  I,  hurriedly. 

"  And  expected  to  find  him  here?  "  added  he,  half  sneer- 
ingly. 

"  Here  —  anywhere,"  said  I,  recklessly. 

"Just  so;  I  thought  as  much.  Well,  my  lad,  you  had 
better  give  a  more  satisfactory  account  of  yourself  to  the 
commissary.     Come  along  with  me  to  the  police." 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  cried  I. 

"  Who  are  you?  Whence  do  you  come?"  asked  he,  with 
somewhat  of  kindliness  in  his  voice. 

"  These  are  questions  you  have  no  right  to  ask  me, 
citizen,"  replied  I. 

"  Well,  have  I  not  a  right  to  know  why  you  have  been 
four  several  times  in  my  shop  this  forenoon,  and  never 
bought  nor  asked  for  anything?" 

"That  you  shall  hear  freely  and  frankly,"  said  I;  "I 
have  a  passport  made  out  for  England,  whither  I  wish  to 
go.  The  authorities  require  that  I  should  have  some  refer- 
ence to  a  citizen  of  Havre  before  they  allow  me  to  depart. 
I  am  a  stranger  here,  —  I  know  of  no  one,  not  even  by 
name.     The  whole  of  this  morning  I  have  spent  hurrying 


340  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

hither  and  thither  to  find  out  some  one  I  have  seen  before, 
but  in  vain.  All  are  strangers  to  me  ;  none  know  me.  In 
my  wanderings,  it  may  be  that  I  have  chanced  to  come  here 
as  often  as  you  say, — perhaps  I  have  done  so  in  twenty 
places ;  for  my  head  is  distracted,  and  I  cannot  collect  my 
thoughts.     There,  then,  is  the  answer  to  your  inquiry." 

' '  Have  you  a  trade  or  a  handicraft,  lad  ?  " 

"  Not  either." 

"  Nor  any  means  of  support?  " 

"Quite  sufficient  for  all  my  wants,"  replied  I,  boldly, 
and  at  the  same  time  producing  my  purse,  well  stored  as  it 
was  with  five-franc  pieces. 

"Ah,  then,  you  belong  to  some  of  the  emigres?  You 
are  going  to  join  your  family?"  asked  he,  but  in  a  lower 
and  more  cautious  voice. 

"  Don't  you  think  that  I  have  been  candid  enough  already, 
friend?"  said  I;  "and  do  you  not  know  sufficient  of  my 
affairs,  without  asking  me  more?" 

"  Not  if  it  be  for  more  than  mere  curiosity,"  said  he, 
drawing  nearer  to  me ;  "  not  if  I  ask  from  a  sincere  interest 
in  you." 

"But  I  ought,  perhaps,  to  hear  something  of  him  that 
questions  me,"  said  I,  affecting  an  amount  of  circumspection 
that  was  far  from  natural  to  me. 

"  Then  go  out  upon  the  quay  yonder,  and  ask  who  is 
Pierre  Dubos.  My  character  and  my  name  are  well  known 
in  Havre ;  you  '11  not  have  to  ask  often  without  an  answer." 

"Well,  then,  citizen,  tell  me  what  more  you  wish  to 
learn  about  me.  I  '11  tell  you  whatever  you  like,  if  I  only 
know  it." 

"  Have  you  dined  yet,  lad?  "  asked  he,  quietly. 

"  No  ;  I  have  not  had  time." 

"  Come,  then,  and  partake  of  mine ;  "  and,  without  waiting 
for  an  answer,  he  let  down  the  shutter  that  closed  the 
entrance  to  his  shop,  and  led  me  by  the  arm  into  a  room 
behind  it. 

Pierre  Dubos,  though  nearer  to  sixty  than  fifty,  was  only 
a  short  time  married  to  a  very  pretty  and  young  woman 
who,  as  he  entered  the  room,  was  arranging  the  table  for 
dinner.       She   received   me   with   much   courtesy,    scarcely 


HAVRE.  341 

heeding,  if  she  even  heard,  the  explanation  her  husband  gave 
to  account  for  my  presence. 

The  meal  was  an  excellent  one.  and  passed  off  with  all 
that  easy  conviviality  that  every  class  of  Frenchmen  know 
how  to  display.  Monsieur  Dubos  seemed  somewhat  of  a 
character,  and  rather  piqued  himself  on  doing  things  that 
others  might  never  have  thought  of.  His  marriage  appeared 
to  have  been  one  of  these ;  his  invitation  to  myself  was 
another. 

"You  know,  Jeanette,"  said  he,  "we  might  never  have 
met  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  ferry  being  delayed  at  Hon- 
fleur.  We  made  acquaintance  on  the  steps  of  the  pier ;  and 
see  what  has  come  of  it !  Now,  I  have  come  to  know 
Bernard  here  by  a  similar  accident.  Who  knows  what  may 
arise  out  of  that? " 

Madame  smiled  benignly  in  assent  to  the  theory,  the  happy 
results  of  which  she  seemed  to  acknowledge. 

Coffee  came  after  dinner ;  and  then  I  began  to  think  how 
I  should  take  my  leave.  Ere  I  could  solve  the  problem  to 
my  satisfaction,  Dubos  said,  — 

' '  Shall  we  all  go  to  the  comedy  this  evening  ?  They  play 
a  grand  piece,  one  of  Beaumanhui's,  —  and  it  will  amuse 
us." 

Madame  hailed  the  proposition  with  delight ;  and  I  really 
felt  sorry  as  I  said,  — 

"  But  this  will  never  bring  me  to  England." 

' '  What  need  to  go  there  ?  Why  not  stay  in  France  ? 
Was  it  not  a  pleasanter  country  and  a  better  climate?  At 
all  events,  what  urgent  haste  was  there  ?  Would  not  to-mor- 
row serve  as  well  as  to-day  ?  " 

These  and  such-like  arguments  were  showered  upon  me, 
and  not  a  little  aided  by  many  little  coquetries  of  look  and 
gesture. 

"One  thing  is  quite  certain,"  said  Dubos:  "it  is  imw 
three,  —  the  bureau  closes  at  four  o'clock  ;  and  if  you  know 
of  any  one  in  Havre  who  will  be  your  sponsor,  the  sooner 
you  find  him  the  better." 

This  speech  was  uttered  with  so  much  gravity  that  it 
completely  mystified  me;  nor  did  the  next  remark  serve 
greatly  to  elucidate  matters,  as  his  wife  said  she  hoped  "  I  'd 


342  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

have  a  pleasant  voyage."  After  enjoying  my  astonished 
and  puzzled  look  for  a  second  or  two,  they  both  burst  into  a 
roar  of  laughter. 

"  Don't  you  see,  Bernard,"  said  the  man,  "  that  you  have 
no  other  acquaintance  in  the  city  than  ourselves ;  and  if  we 
have  a  fancy  for  your  company,  and  do  not  care  to  part  with 
it,  the  option  is  with  us  ?  " 

"  But  if  you  really  do  feel  an  interest  for  me,  you  would 
befriend  me,"  said  I.     "Is  not  that  so?  " 

"And  so  I'm  ready  to  do,"  said  he,  rising.  "Say  the 
word,  and  I  '11  go  with  you  this  moment  to  the  commissary." 

I  arose  too.  Already  the  syllables  were  on  my  lips, 
when  the  sudden  thought  flashed  across  me :  Whither  am 
I  hurrying,  and  for  what?  Was  I  returning  to  home  and 
family  and  country?  Was  I  going  back  to  kind  and  loving 
friends,  whose  hearts  were  yearning  for  my  coming?  I 
paused,  and  at  the  same  instant  the  laughing  eyes  of  the 
young  Frenchwoman  seemed  to  read  my  embarrassment. 

"Well,"  cried  Dubos,  "  how  is  it  to  be?  " 

"  Sit  down,  Pierre,  and  take  your  coffee,"  said  she,  smil- 
ing. "Citizen  Bernard  has  not  the  slightest  intention  of 
leaving  us.  He  knows,  besides,  that  you  will  be  just  as 
ready  to  serve  him  any  other  day,  and  not  the  less  so  when 
you  will  have  been  better  acquainted." 

"  She  is  right,"  said  he,  pressing  me  down  into  my  seat 
again.     "  Let 's  have  a  chasse  in  ease,  and  quick." 

I  did  not  stop  to  reason  the  question.  If  I  had,  perhaps 
I  should  only  have  seen  stronger  cause  to  concur  with  my 
kind  hosts.  The  world  was  a  wide  and  trackless  ocean 
before  me,  and  even  the  humblest  haven  was  a  welcome 
harbor  to  me  for  a  day  or  two. 

I  stayed  accordingly,  and  went  to  the  theatre  with  them. 
The  following  day  was  Sunday,  and  we  went  over  to  Hon- 
fleur,  and  dined  at  the  "  Trois  Pigeons;  "  and  Pierre  showed 
me  the  spot  where  he  first  saw  his  pretty  wife,  and  said,  — 

"  Who  knows  but  some  day  or  other  I  may  be  telling  of 
the  day  and  the  hour  and  the  way  I  became  acquainted  with 
you?" 

As  I  parted  with  them  each  night,  some  little  plan  or  pro- 
ject was  always  struck  out  for  the  morrow  ;  and  so  I  lingered 


HAVRE.  343 

on  from  day  to  day,  half  listless,  and  half  pleased.  At 
length,  as  I  was  proceeding  one  morning  towards  the  house, 
I  saw  a  crowd  in  front  of  a  cafe  all  busily  engaged  in  read- 
ing a  large  placard  which  had  just  been  affixed  to  the  wall. 
It  was  an  account  of  the  seizure  by  the  English  of  the  very 
vessel  I  had  intended  to  have  taken  my  passage  in ;  for, 
strangely  enough,  though  the  countries  were  at  war,  a  species 
of  half  intercourse  was  kept  up  between  them  for  some  time, 
and  travellers  often  passed  from  one  shore  to  the  other. 
This  system  was  now,  it  seemed,  to  have  an  end  ;  and  it  was 
curious  to  remark  how  bitter  were  the  commentaries  the 
change  excited. 

Pierre  had  learned  the  news  by  the  time  I  reached  his 
house,  and  laughingly  remarked  on  the  good  luck  that  always 
attended  his  inspirations. 

"But  for  me,"  said  he,  "  and  my  wise  counsels,  you  had 
been  a  prisoner  now,  and  all  your  claims  to  nationality  would 
only  have  got  you  hanged  for  a  traitor.  From  the  first 
moment  I  saw  you,  something  whispered  me  that  we  were 
destined  to  know  more  of  each  other ;  and  now  I  perceive 
that  the  impression  was  well  founded." 

"  How  do  you  infer  that?  "  asked  I,  smiling. 

"  Because  my  instincts  have  never  betrayed  me  yet." 

"And  what  is  to  be  the  upshot  of  our  acquaintance, 
then  ? " 

"Do  you  ask  this  seriously,  Bernard,  or  are  you  only  jest- 
ing at  my  presentiments  ?  " 

"In  all  seriousness  and  in  all  trustfulness,"  replied  I. 

"  You'll  stay  here  in  Havre  —  join  me  in  my  business  — 
make  money  —  be  a  rich  man  — and  —  "  he  paused. 

"Go  on;  I  like  the  prophecy,"  said  I,  laughing. 

"  And  I  was  going  to  say,  just  as  likely  to  lose  it  all,  some 
fine  morning,  as  easily  as  you  earned  it." 

"  But  I  have  not  a  single  requisite  for  the  part  you  assign 
me.  I  am  ignorant  of  every  branch  of  trade  and  traffic; 
nor,  if  I  know  myself,  do  I  possess  one  single  quality  that 
insures  success  in  them." 

"I'll  teach  you,  Bernard!  There  are  few  secrets  in  ray 
craft.  We  deal  with  smugglers,  —  we  buy  from  them,  and 
sell  to  them !     For  the  pedler  that  comes  to  us  in  our  shop 


344  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

in  the  '  Rue  des  Sol,'  we  care  little ;  for  our  customers  who 
drop  in  after  nightfall,  we  have  a  sincere  affection.  You 
have  hitherto  regarded  them  in  the  light  of  visitors  and 
friends.  You  little  suspected  that  through  them  we  carried 
on  all  our  business ;  and  just  as  little  did  it  ever  occur  to 
you  that  you  yourself  are  already  a  great  favorite  with  them. 
Your  stories,  your  remarks,  the  views  you  take  of  life, 
all  your  observations,  are  quite  novel  and  amusing  to  poor 
fellows  whose  whole  experience  of  the  world  is  picked  up  in 
stormy  nights  in  the  Channel,  or  still  more  perilous  adven- 
tures on  shore.  Many  have  already  asked  me  when  you 
would  be  with  me  of  an  evening,  that  they  might  come ; 
others  have  begged  they  might  bring  friends  along  with  them  ; 
and,  in  short,  they  like  you  ;  and  they  are  fellows  who,  when 
they  have  fancies,  don't  grudge  the  price  they  pay  for  them." 

I  laughed  heartily  as  I  heard  this.  Assuredly  it  had 
never  occurred  to  myself  to  observe  the  circumstance,  still 
less  to  make  it  a  matter  of  profit  or  speculation ;  but,  some- 
how, the  coarse  flattery  of  even  such  admiration  was  not 
without  a  certain  charm  for  my  mind. 

Still,  it  was  a  part  I  could  not  have  condescended  to  prac- 
tise for  gain,  nor,  perhaps,  had  such  been  my  intention,  could 
I  have  been  equally  successful. 

Dubos,  however,  assigned  me  a  duty  which  made  a  happy 
compromise  between  my  self-esteem  and  my  desire  for 
employment.  This  was  to  make  acquaintance  with  all  of 
that  adventurous  race  comprised  between  the  buccaneer  and 
the  smuggler ;  to  learn  their  various  wants,  when  they  voy- 
aged, and  for  what,  became  my  province.  They  were  a  wild, 
wasteful,  and  reckless  class,  who  loved  far  better  to  deal 
with  one  who  should  stand  to  them  in  the  relation  of  a  com- 
panion than  as  a  chapman  or  a  dealer. 

If  I  am  free  to  own  that  my  occupation  was  not  very  dig- 
nified, I  am  equally  able  to  assert  that  I  never  prostituted 
any  influence  I  obtained  in  this  way  to  personal  objects  of 
profit.  On  the  contrary,  I  have  repeatedly  been  able  to  aid, 
by  good  counsel  and  advice,  men  whose  knowledge  of  adven- 
turous life  was  far  greater  than  my  own  ;  and  oftentimes  has 
it  occurred  to  me  to  obtain  for  them  quadruple  the  value 
they  had  themselves  set  upon  objects  they  possessed. 


HAVRE.  345 

I  can  scarcely  account  to  myself  for  the  extraordinary 
interest  the  pursuit  engendered,  —  the  characters,  the  places 
they  frequented,  the  habits,  were  all  of  the  strangest,  and 
might  reasonably  have  amused  one  ardently  fond  of  adven- 
ture ;  but  there  was,  besides  all  this,  a  degree  of  danger  in 
the  intercourse  that  imparted  a  most  intense  degree  of 
interest  to  it. 

Many  of  these  men  were  great  criminals.  Many  of  the 
valuables  confided  to  my  keeping  were  obtained  by  the  most 
questionable  means.  They  trafficked  not  alone  in  articles 
of  contraband,  but  they  dealt  in  the  still  more  dangerous 
wares  of  secret  information  to  governments ;  some  were 
far  less  smugglers  than  spies.  All  these  curious  traits 
became  revealed  to  me  in  our  intercourse  ;  and  I  learned 
to  see  by  what  low  and  base  agencies  are  often  moved  the 
very  greatest  and  most  momentous  incidents  of  the  world. 
It  was  not  alone  that  many  of  these  men  were  employed 
by  persons  high  in  station,  but  they  were  really  often  in- 
trusted with  functions  very  disproportionate  to  their  own 
claim  for  either  character  or  fitness.  At  one  time  it  would 
be  a  state  secret;  at  another,  some  dark  piece  of  treach- 
erous vengeance,  or  some  scarcely  less  dark  incident  of  what 
fashion  calls  "gallantry  ;  "  while  occasionally  a  figure  would 
cross  the  scene  of  a  very  different  order,  aud  men  of  unques- 
tionable station  be  met  with  in  the  garb  and  among  the 
haunts  of  the  freebooter. 

There  was  scarcely  a  leader  of  the  republican  party  with 
whom  some  member  of  the  exiled  family  had  not  attempted 
the  arts  of  seduction.  With  many  of  them,  it  was  said, 
they  really  succeeded ;  and  others  only  waited  their  oppor- 
tunity to  become  their  partisans.  "Whether  the  English 
Government  actually  adopted  the  same  policy  or  not,  they 
assuredly  had  the  credit  of  doing  so ;  and  the  sudden  ac- 
cession to  wealth  and  affluence  of  men  who  had  no  visible 
road  to  fortune,  greatly  favored  this  impression.  My 
friend  Pierre  Dubos  troubled  his  head  very  little  about 
these  things.  So  long  as  his  "brandies  could  be  run" 
upon  the  shores  of  England,  and  his  bales  of  silk  find 
their  way  to  London  without  encountering  a  custom-house, 
he  cared  nothing  for  the  world  of  politics  and  statecraft ;  and 


346  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

it  is  not  impossible  that  his  well-known  indifference  to  these 
matters  contributed  something  to  the  confidence  with  which 
they  were  freely  imparted  to  myself.  Whatever  the  cause, 
I  soon  became  the  trusted  depositary  of  much  that  was 
valuable,  not  alone  in  actual  wealth,  but  in  secret  informa- 
tion. Jewels,  sums  of  money,  securities  to  a  great  amount, 
papers  and  documents  of  consequence,  all  found  their  way 
to  my  hands ;  and  few  went  forth  upon  any  expedition  of 
hazard  without  first  committing  to  my  keeping  whatever  he 
possessed  of  worth. 

I  was  now  living  in  privacy  and  simplicity,  it  is  true,  but 
in  the  enjoyment  of  every  comfort;  but,  still,  with  all  the 
sense  of  a  precarious  and  even  a  perilous  existence.  More 
than  once  had  I  been  warned  that  the  authorities  enter- 
tained suspicion  of  me ;  and  although  the  police,  even  to 
its  highest  grades,  was  in  our  pay,  it  was  yet  possible  that 
they  should  find  it  then-  interest  to  betray  us.  It  was  just 
at  this  time  that  a  secret  envoy  arrived  from  Paris  at  Havre, 
en  route  for  England,  and  was  arrested  on  entering  the  town. 
His  papers  were  all  seized,  except  one  small  packet  which 
was  conveyed  by  a  safe  hand  to  myself,  and  my  advice  and 
counsel  requested  on  the  subject  of  it.  The  address  was 
simply  "  W.  P.,"  and  marked,  "with  the  greatest  speed." 
There  was  an  enclosure  that  felt  like  a  locket-case  or  a 
medallion,  inside,  and  three  large  seals  without. 

The  envoy,  who  had  contrived  to  disburden  himself  of 
this  in  the  very  moment  of  his  arrestation,  at  once  made  a 
signal  indicative  of  its  pressing  emergency ;  and  his  own 
rank  and  position  seemed  to  guarantee  the  fact.  One  of 
our  luggers  was  only  waiting  for  the  tide  to  weigh  anchor 
and  sail  for  England;  and  the  sudden  resolve  struck  me 
to  take  charge  of  the  letter,  and  see  if  I  could  not  discover 
for  whom  it  was  meant.  Both  Dubos  and  his  wife  did  all 
in  their  power  to  dissuade  me  from  the  project.  They  spoke 
of  the  great  peril  of  the  attempt,  and  its  utter  fruitlessness 
besides ;  but  for  the  former  I  had  not  many  fears,  and  as 
to  the  latter  consideration,  I  was  fortified  by  a  strong  and 
deep-felt  conviction  that  the  locket  was  intended  for  no 
less  a  personage  than  the  head  of  the  English  ministry, 
and  that  ' '  William  Pitt "  was  designated  by  the  initials  of 


HAVRE.  347 

the  direction.  I  own  that  the  conjecture  was  mainly  sug- 
gested to  me  by  the  constant  reference  made  to  his  name, 
and  the  frequent  allusions  I  had  heard  made  to  him  by 
many  of  the  secret  emissaries. 

If  I  did  not  impart  this  impression  to  Dubos,  it  was  sim- 
ply because  I  knew  how  little  interest  the  subject  would 
have  for  him,  and  that  I  should  frame  very  different  rea- 
sons for  my  journey  if  I  looked  for  his  concurrence.  I 
need  not  stop  to  record  the  discussion  that  ensued  between 
us.  Enough  if  I  say  that  honest  Pierre  made  me  an  offer 
of  partnership  with  him  if  I  consented  to  forego  my  jour- 
ney, from  which  he  steadily  predicted  that  I  should  return 
no  more.  This  prophecy  had  no  power  to  deter  me,  —  nay, 
I  half  suspect  that  it  furnished  an  additional  argument  for 
my  going. 

Having  consigned  to  him,  therefore,  all  the  objects  of 
value  that  had  been  left  with  me,  and  taking  nothing  but 
the  few  papers  and  letters  belonging  to  myself,  I  sailed 
that  evening;  and,  as  day  was  breaking,  I  saw  looming 
through  the  distance  the  tall  and  chalky  cliffs  of  England. 
We  were  a  long  way  to  the  northward  of  the  part  usually 
frequented  by  our  skipper,  and  it  was  not  without  difficulty 
that  I  persuaded  him  to  land  me  in  a  small  bay,  in  which 
a  solitary  cottage  was  the  only  sign  of  habitation. 

By  noon  I  gained  the  hut  of  a  fisherman,  who,  though  he 
had  seen  me  put  out  from  a  craft  that  he  knew  to  be  French, 
yet  neither  expressed  any  surprise  at  my  appearance,  nor 
thought  it  a  matter  for  any  questioning.  The  shoal  water 
and  the  breakers,  it  is  true,  could  have  prevented  the  spot 
being  selected  as  a  landing-place  for  troops ;  but  nothing 
was  easier  than  to  use  it  to  disembark  either  secret  emissa- 
ries, or  even  a  small  body  of  men.  I  walked  from  this  to 
a  small  town  about  eight  miles  inland,  whence  I  started  the 
same  night  by  coach  for  London.  I  cannot  convey  my 
notion  of  the  sense  of  freedom  I  felt  at  wandering  thus  at 
will,  unquestioned  by  any  one.  Had  I  but  travelled  a 
dozen  miles  in  France,  I  should  have  been  certain  of  en- 
countering full  as  many  obstacles.  Here  none  troubled 
their  heads  about  me ;  and  whence  I  came,  or  whither  I 
went,  were  not  asked  by  any.     Some,  indeed,  stared  at  my 


348  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

travel-worn  dress,  and  looked  with  surprise  at  rny  knapsack, 
covered  with  undressed  calf-skin  ;  but  none  suspected  that 
it  was  French,  nor  that  he  who  carried  it  had  landed,  but  a 
few  hours  before,  from  the  land  of  their  dread  and  abhor- 
rence. In  fact,  the  England  and  France  of  those  days  were 
like  countries  widely  separated  by  distance,  and  the  narrow 
strip  of  sea  between  thern  was  accounted  as  a  great  ocean. 
No  sooner  had  I  arrived  in  London  than  I  inquired  for  the 
residence  of  the  Prime  Minister.  It  was  not  a  period  when 
the  Parliament  was  sitting.  They  told  me  that  I  should 
rarely  find  him  in  town,  but  was  sure  of  meeting  with  him  at 
Houuslow,  where  he  had  taken  a  house  for  his  health,  then 
much  broken  by  the  cares  and  fatigues  of  office. 

It  was  evening  —  a  fine,  mellow  autumn  evening — as  I 
found  myself  in  front  of  a  large,  lonely  house,  in  the  midst 
of  a  neglected-lookiug  garden,  the  enclosure  of  which  was 
a  dilapidated  wall,  broken  in  many  places,  and  admitting 
glimpses  of  the  disorder  and  decay  within.  I  pulled  the 
string  of  the  bell,  but  it  was  broken ;  and  while  I  stood 
uncertain  what  course  to  pursue,  I  caught  sight  of  a  man 
who  was  leaning  over  a  little  balustrade,  and  apparently 
watching  some  fish  in  a  pond  at  his  feet.  He  was  thin  and 
spare-looking,  with  somewhat  the  ah'  of  premature  age ; 
and  though  dressed  in  the  very  simplest  manner,  there  was 
the  unmistakable  mark  of  a  gentleman  in  his  appearance. 

He  seemed  to  have  observed  me,  but  made  no  sign  of 
recognition  as  I  came  towards  him.  He  even  turned  his 
head  to  look  at  me,  and  then  resumed  his  former  attitude. 
I  believe  that  I  would  willingly  have  retreated  at  that 
moment,  if  I  knew  how.  I  felt  that  my  presence  there  was 
like  an  intrusion,  and  was  already  ashamed  of  it.  But  it  was 
now  too  late ;  for,  standing  erect,  and  with  his  hands  behind 
him,  he  fixed  his  eyes  steadily  on  me,  and  asked  me  my  busi- 
ness there.     I  replied  that  I  wished  to  speak  with  Mr.  Pitt. 

"  Do  so,  then,"  rejoined  he  ;   "lam  he." 

I  hesitated  for  a  second  or  two  how  to  open  my  communi- 
cation ;  but  he  waited  for  me  without  the  slightest  show  of 
impatience,  till,  gaining  courage,  I  told  him  in  a  few  words 
by  what  means  I  had  become  possessed  of  a  letter,  the  con- 
tents  of  which  I  had    surmised   might  by  possibility  have 


HAVRE.  349 

been  intended  for  him.  Short  as  was  my  explanation,  it 
seemed  to  suffice,  for  he  nodded  twice  or  thrice  in  assent 
as  I  went  on,  and  then,  taking  the  letter  from  my  hand, 
said,  — 

"  Yes,  this  is  for  me." 

So  saying,  he  turned  away  into  an  alley  of  the  garden  to 
peruse  the  letter  at  his  leisure. 

I  remember  as  well  as  though  it  were  but  yesterday  the 
strange  crowd  of  sensations  that  pressed  upon  my  mind  as  I 
stood  there  waiting  for  his  return.  Astonishment  at  finding 
myself  in  such  a  presence  was  the  first  of  these ;  the  second 
was  a  surprise  to  see  with  how  little  of  awe  or  embarrass- 
ment I  bore  myself  before  one  whose  haughty  bearing  was 
the  terror  of  his  contemporaries.  I  did  not  know  enough  of 
life  to  be  aware  that  the  very  fact  of  my  humble  station  was 
the  levelling  influence  that  operated  in  my  favor,  and  that 
if,  instead  of  an  unknown  emissary,  I  had  been  the  deputed 
envoy  of  a  great  government,  I  should  have  found  the  min- 
ister as  coldly  haughty  as  I  had  heard  him  described. 

"While  I  was  yet  surmising  and  reasoning  with  myself,  he 
came  up  to  me,  saying,  — 

"They  have  arrested  Monsieur  Ducoste,  you  said.  Is 
the  affair  like  to  be  serious  ?  " 

"I  believe  not,  sir;  his  only  paper  of  consequence  was 
this." 

He  opened  the  letter  again,  and  seemed  lost  in  contempla- 
tion of  something  it  contained ;  at  length  he  said,  — 

"Have  you  brought  any  newspapers  or  journals  with 
you  ?  " 

"  None,  sir;  I  came  away  at  a  moment's  warning." 

"  You  are  an  Englishman.  How  came  it  that  you  have 
been  a  resident  in  France?" 

For  tlit;  first  time  his  face  assumed  an  expression  of  sever- 
ity as  he  said  this,  and  I  could  not  but  feel  that  the  inquiry 
was  one  that  touched  my  personal  honor.  I  replied,  there- 
fore, promptly  that  I  had  come  abroad  from  causes  of  a 
family  nature,  and  that  they  were  matters  which  could  not 
interest  a  stranger. 

"They  do  interest  me,  sir,"  was  his  reply,  "and  I  have 
a  riirht  to  know  them." 


350  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

If  my  first  impulse  was  to  resent  what  I  conceived  to  be 
a  tyranny,  my  second  was  to  clear  myself  from  any  possi- 
bility of  an  imputation.  I  believe  it  was  the  wiser  of  the 
two ;  at  all  events,  I  yielded  to  it,  and,  apologizing  for  the 
intrusion  upon  time  valuable  as  his,  I  narrated,  in  a  few 
minutes,  the  leading  features  of  my  history. 

"A  singular  story,"  said  he,  as  I  concluded:  "the  son 
of  au  Irish  Opposition  leader  reduced  to  this !  What  proofs 
have  you  of  the  correctness  of  your  account?  Have  you 
acquaintances?    Letters?" 

"  Some  letters,  but  not  one  acquaintance." 

"  Let  me  see  some  of  these.  Come  here  to-morrow,  fetch 
your  papers  with  you,  and  be  here  at  eleven  o'clock." 

"But  excuse  me,  sir,"  said  I,  "if  I  ask  wherefore  I 
should  do  this?  I  came  here  at  considerable  personal  haz- 
ard to  render  you  a  service.  I  have  been  fortunate  enough 
to  succeed.  I  have  also  made  known  to  you  certain  cir- 
cumstances of  a  purely  private  nature,  and  which  only 
can  concern  myself.  You  either  believe  them  or  you  do 
not." 

"  This  is  precisely  the  difficulty  that  I  have  not  solved, 
young  gentleman,"  said  he,  courteously;  "you  may  be 
speaking  in  all  the  strongest  conviction  of  truthfulness, 
and  yet  be  incorrect.  I  desire  to  be  satisfied  on  this  head, 
and  I  am  equally  ready  to  assure  you  that  the  inquiry  is 
not  prompted  by  any  motive  of  mere  curiosity." 

I  remained  silent  for  a  minute  or  two ;  I  tried  to  weigh 
the  different  reasons  for  and  against  either  course  in  my 
mind,  but  I  was  too  much  agitated  for  the  process.  He 
seemed  to  guess  what  was  passing  within  me,  and  said,  — 

' '  Don't  you  perceive,  sir,  that  I  am  your  debtor  for  a 
service,  and  that  before  I  attempt  to  acquit  the  obligation 
I  ought  to  know  the  rank  and  station  of  my  creditor  ?  You 
would  not  accept  of  a  pecuniary  reward  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,  and  as  little  any  other." 

"  But  I  might  possibly  present  my  thanks  in  a  form  to  be 
acceptable,"  said  he,  blandly;  "  and  I  wish  you  would  give 
me  the  opportunity  !  " 

And  with  that  he  bowed  deeply,  and  walked  slowly  away. 
I  returned  to  London  with  a  head  full  of  my  interview. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

MY    REWARD. 

I  had  taken  up  my  quarters  in  one  of  the  small  streets 
which  lead  from  the  Strand  to  the  river ;  a  very  humble 
abode  it  was,  and  such  as  suited  very  humble  fortune. 
When  I  arrived  there,  after  the  interview  I  have  related,  I 
sat  down  and  wrote  a  short  account  of  the  events  of  my 
life,  so  far  as  they  were  known  to  me.  I  subjoined  any 
letters  and  documents  that  I  possessed  which  gave  con- 
firmation to  my  statement,  addressing  the  entire  to  the 
minister,  with  the  request  that  if  my  capacity  could  fit  me 
for  any  emplo}7ment  in  the  public  service,  he  would  gra- 
ciously make  a  trial  of  me ;  and  if  not,  that  he  would 
enable  me  to  return  to  France,  where  a  livelihood  at  least 
was  procurable. 

This  I  despatched  on  a  Tuesday  morning,  and  it  was  not 
until  the  following  Saturday  that  I  obtained  my  reply.  I 
cannot  think  of  that  painful  interval  even  now  without  a 
shudder.  The  torture  of  suspense  had  risen  to  a  fever, 
and  for  the  last  day  and  night  I  neither  ate  nor  slept.  On 
Saturday  came  a  brief  note,  in  these  words:  "J.  C.  may 
call  at  Hounslow  before  ten  to-morrow." 

It  was  not  signed,  nor  even  dated ;  and  so  I  was  left  to 
surmise  if  it  had  reached  me  in  fitting  time.  It  was  scarcely 
eight  o'clock  on  Sunday  morning  as  I  found  myself  stand- 
ing beside  the  wicket  of  the  garden,  which  seemed  as 
deserted  and  desolate  as  before.  At  an  open  window, 
however,  on  the  ground  floor  I  saw  a  breakfast-table  laid 
out ;  and  as  I  looked,  a  lady  and  gentleman  entered,  and 
took  their  places  at  it.  One  was,  I  knew,  the  minister. 
The  lady,  who  was  a  tall  and  dignified  person  rather  than 
a  handsome  one,  bore  some  resemblance  to  him.  Her  quick 
glance  detected  me  from  afar,  and  as   quickly  she   called 


352  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

attention  to  my  presence  there.  Mr.  Pitt  arose  and  beck- 
oned me  to  come  forward,  which  I  did,  with  no  small  shame 
and  embarrassment. 

While  I  stood  at  the  hall-door,  uncertain  whether  to 
knock  or  wait,  it  was  opened  by  the  minister  himself,  who 
kindly  wished  me  good-morning,  and  desired  me  to  follow 
him. 

"This  is  the  youth  himself,  Hester,"  said  he,  as  we  en- 
tered the  room;  "  and  I  have  no  doubt  he  will  be  happy  to 
answer  any  questions  you  may  put  to  him." 

The  lady  motioned  to  me  to  be  seated,  and  in  a  grave, 
almost  severe  tone,  said,  — 

"  Who  composed  this  paper,  —  this  narrative  of  yours?  " 

"  I  did,  madam." 

"The  whole  of  it?" 

"  Yes,  madam,  the  whole  of  it." 

"  Where  have  you  been  educated?" 

"  At  Reichenau,  madam." 

"  Where  is  that?  " 

"  In  Switzerland,  on  the  frontiers  of  the  Vorarlberg." 

"  And  your  parents  are  both  dead,  and  you  have  actually 
none  in  the  shape  of  relatives?  " 

"  Not  one,  madam." 

She  whispered  something  here  to  the  minister,  who  quickly 
said,  — 

"  Certainly,  if  you  wish  it." 

"Tell  me,  sir,"  said  she,  addressing  me  again,  "who  is 
this  same  Count  de  Gabriac,  of  whom  mention  is  made  here. 
Is  he  the  person  called  Couvre-Tete  in  the  circles  of  the 
Jacobins?  " 

"  I  never  have  heard  him  so  called,  madam." 

"  You  know  him  at  least  to  be  of  that  party?  " 

"No,  madam.  The  very  little  I  do  know  of  him  person- 
ally would  induce  me  to  suppose  the  opposite." 

She  shook  her  head,  and  gave  a  faint  supercilious  smile, 
as  though  in  total  disbelief  of  my  words. 

"  If  you  have  read  my  memoir,  madam,"  said  I,  hastily, 
"  you  will  perceive  how  few  have  been  the  occasions  of  my 
meeting  with  the  Count,  and  that,  whatever  his  politics,  I 
may  be  excused  for  not  knowing  them." 


MY   REWARD.  353 

"  You  say  that  you  went  along  with  him  to  Paris?  " 

"  Yes,  madam,  and  never  saw  him  afterwards." 

"You  have  heard  from  him,  however,  and  are,  in  fact,  in 
correspondence  with  him  ?  " 

"  No,  madam,  nothing  of  the  kind." 

As  I  said  this,  she  threw  the  paper  indignantly  on  the 
table,  and  walked  away  to  the  window.  The  minister  fol- 
lowed her,  and  said  something  in  a  low  whisper,  to  which 
she  replied  aloud,  — 

"Well,  it's  not  my  opinion.  Time  will  tell  which  of  us 
was  more  right." 

"  Tell  me  something  of  the  condition  of  parties  in  France," 
said  he,  drawing  his  chair  in  front  of  mine.  "Are  the  divi- 
sions as  wide  as  heretofore  ?  " 

I  will  not  go  over  the  conversation  that  ensued,  since  I 
was  myself  the  principal  speaker.  Enough  if  I  say  that  I 
told  him  whatever  I  knew  or  had  heard  of  the  various  sub- 
divisions of  party :  of  the  decline  of  the  terrorists,  and  the 
advent  to  power  of  men  who,  with  equal  determination  and 
firmness,  yet  were  resolute  to  uphold  the  laws  and  provide 
for  the  security  of  life  and  property.  In  the  course  of  this 
I  had  to  speak  of  the  financial  condition  of  the  country ;  and 
in  the  few  words  that  fell  from  me,  came  the  glimpses  of 
some  of  that  teaching  I  had  obtained  from  the  Hen- 
Robert. 

"You  appear  to  have  devoted  attention  to  these  topics," 
said  he,  with  a  smile.  "  They  are  scarcely  the  subjects  most 
attractive  to  youth.     How  came  that  to  pass?  " 

"By  an  accident,  sir,  that  made  me  acquainted  with  the 
son  of  one  who,  if  not  a  great  financier,  was  at  least  the 
most  notorious  one  the  world  has  ever  seen,  — Robert  Law. 
of  Lauriston."  And  at  a  sign  from  him  to  continue,  I 
related  the  whole  incident  I  referred  to.  He  listened  to  me 
throughout  with  deep  attention. 

"These  papers  that  you  speak  of,"  said  he,  interrupting, 
"  would  certainly  be  curious,  if  not  actually  valuable.  They 
are  still  at  the  Rue  Quincampoix  ?  " 

"  I  believe  so,  sir." 

"  Well,  the  day  may  come  when  they  may  be  obtainable. 
Meanwhile,  of   this   Count,  this   Monsieur   de   Gabriac,  — 


354  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

for  I  want  to  hear  more  of  him,  —  when  did  he  arrive  in 
England  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  know  that  he  was  here,  sir." 

He  looked  at  me  calmly,  but  with  great  intentness,  as  I 
said  this ;  and  then,  as  if  satisfied  with  his  scrutiny,  drew 
a  small  case  from  his  pocket,  and,  opening  it,  held  it  before 
me. 

"  Is  this  a  portrait  of  the  Count  de  Gabriac?  " 

"  Yes,  and  a  striking  likeness,"  replied  I,  promptly. 

"And  you  know  his  business  in  England,  young  man?" 
said  the  lady,  turning  suddenly  from  the  window  to  address 
me. 

"  I  do  not,  madam." 

"  Then  I  will  tell  you,"  said  she. 

"  No,  no,  Hester,"  said  the  minister;  "  this  is  not  neces- 
sary. You  say  that  this  is  like  him,  — like  enough  to  lead  to 
his  recognition ;  that  is  quite  sufficient.  Now,  for  yourself, 
Mr.  Carew,  for  it  is  time  I  should  speak  of  you.  You  have 
rendered  a  very  considerable  service  to  this  Government, 
and  I  am  ready  to  requite  it.  What  are  your  own  wishes 
in  this  respect?" 

I  bethought  me  for  a  moment  what  reply  to  make ;  but 
the  more  I  considered,  the  more  difficult  became  the  reply. 
I  might,  by  possibility,  look  too  highly ;  or,  by  an  equally 
probable  error,  I  might  place  myself  on  too  humble  a  level. 
He  waited  with  courteous  patience  while  this  struggle  lasted  ; 
and  then,  as  if  seeing  all  the  force  of  my  embarrassment,  he 
hastened  to  relieve  it. 

"My  question  was  perhaps  ill-judged,"  said  he,  kindly. 
"I  should  have  remembered  that  your  knowledge  of  this 
country  and  its  habits  is  necessarily  limited ;  and,  conse- 
quently, that  to  choose  a  career  in  it  must  be  difficult.  If 
you  will  permit  me,  I  will  myself  make  the  choice  for  you ; 
meanwhile,  and  until  the  opportunity  offer,  I  will  employ 
you.  You  speak  foreign  languages  —  at  least,  French  and 
German  —  fluently.  Well,  these  are  exactly  the  qualifica- 
tions I  desire  to  find  at  this  moment." 

He  paused  for  a  second  or  two,  and  then,  as  though  aban- 
doning some  half -formed  intention,  he  named  a  day  for  me 
to  wait  on  him  at  his  official  residence,  and  dismissed  me. 


MY   REWARD.  355 

I  have  now  come  to  a  portion  of  my  history  of  which  I 
scruple  to  follow  rigorously  the  details.  I  cannot  speak  of 
myself  without  introducing  facts,  and  names,  and  events 
which  became  known  to  me,  some  in  strict  confidence,  some 
under  solemn  pledges  of  secrecy,  and  some  from  the  accident 
of  my  position.  I  have  practised  neither  disguise  nor  mys- 
tery with  my  reader,  nor  do  I  desire  to  do  so  now.  No  false 
shame,  as  regards  myself,  would  induce  me  to  stoop  to  this. 
But  as  I  glance  over  the  notes  and  journals  before  me,  as  I 
read,  at  random,  snatches  of  the  letters  that  litter  my  table, 
I  half  regret  that  I  have  been  led  into  revelations  which  I 
must  necessarily  leave  incomplete,  or  rashly  involve  myself 
in  disclosures  which  I  have  no  right  to  publish  to  the  world. 

So  far  as  I  can  venture,  however,  I  will  dare  to  go.  And 
to  resume  where  I  left  off :  From  the  time  I  saw  the  minis- 
ter at  Hounslow,  I  never  beheld  him  again.  A  certain  Mr. 
Addington  —  one  of  his  secretaries,  I  believe  —  received  me 
when  I  called,  and  was  the  means  of  intercourse  between 
us.  He  was  uniformly  polite  in  his  manner,  but  still  cold 
and  distant  with  me  ;  treating  me  with  courtesy,  but  stren- 
uously declining  all  intimacy.  For  some  weeks  I  continued 
to  wait  in  expectancy  of  some  employment.  I  sat  my  weary 
hours  in  the  antechamber,  and  walked  the  lobbies  with  all 
the  anxiety  of  a  suitor ;  but  to  all  appearance  I  was  utterly 
forgotten,  and  the  service  I  had  rendered  ignored.  At  last 
(it  was  about  ten  weeks  after  my  interview),  as  I  was  pro- 
ceeding one  morning  to  my  accustomed  haunt,  —  hope  had 
almost  deserted  me,  and  I  persisted,  more  from  habit  than 
any  prospect  of  success,  —  a  servant,  in  the  undress  livery  of 
one  of  the  departments  of  state,  met  me  in  the  street. 

"Mr.  Carew,  I  believe?"  said  he,  touching  his  hat.  "I 
have  been  over  half  the  town  this  morning,  sir,  in  search  of 
you.    You  are  wanted  immediately,  sir,  at  the  Foreign  Office." 

How  my  heart  jumped  at  the  words!  What  a  new  spring 
of  hope  burst  up  within  me  !  I  questioned  and  cross-ques- 
tioned the  man,  in  the  foolish  expectation  that  he  could  tell 
me  anything  I  desired  to  know  ;  and  in  this  eager  pursuit  of 
some  clew  to  the  future,  I  found  myself  ascending  the  stairs 
to  .Mr.  Addington's  office.  No  sooner  had  I  appeared  in 
the  antechamber  than  I  was  ushered  into  the  presence  of  the 
secretary.     There  were  several  persons  —  all  strangers  to  me 


356  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

—  present,  who  were  conversing  so  eagerly  together  that  my 
entrance  was  for  some  minutes  unnoticed. 

"  Oh  !  here  is  Carew,"  said  Mr.  Addington,  turning  hastily 
from  the  rest.     "  He  can  identify  him  at  once." 

A  large  elderly  man,  who  I  afterwards  learned  was  a  city 
magistrate,  came  up  at  this,  and,  regarding  me  steadily  for 
a  few  seconds,  said,  — 

"  You  are  well  acquainted  with  the  person  of  a  certain 
Count  de  Gabriac  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  And  could  swear  to  his  identity,  if  required?  " 

"  I  could." 

How  long  I  had  known  him,  where,  and  under  what  cir- 
cumstances, were  also  asked  of  me;  and,  finally,  what  space 
of  time  had  elapsed  since  I  had  last  seen  him. 

"While  this  inquiry  was  going  forward,  I  was  not  unmind- 
ful of  the  remarks  and  observations  around  me,  and,  al- 
though apparently  only  occupied  with  my  own  examination, 
was  shrewdly  attending  to  every  chance  word  that  fell  at 
either  side  of  me.  I  collected  quite  enough  from  these  to 
perceive  that  the  Count  was  at  that  moment  in  England, 
and  in  custody  under  some  very  weighty  charge ;  that  the 
difficulty  of  identification  was  one  of  the  obstacles  to  his 
committal ;  and  that  this  was  believed  to  be  surmountable 
by  my  aid.  Now,  I  never  loved  him,  nor  did  he  me;  but 
yet  I  could  not  forget  how  every  care  of  my  infancy  and 
childhood  was  owing  to  her  who  bore  his  name  and  shared 
his  fortunes,  and  that  for  me  to  repay  such  kindness  with 
an  injury  would  have  been  the  very  blackest  ingratitude. 

These  thoughts  passed  rapidly  through  my  mind,  and  as 
hastily  I  determined  to  act  upon  them.  I  asked  Mr. 
Addington  to  give  me  a  couple  of  minutes'  audience  in  pri- 
vate, and  he  at  once  led  me  into  an  inner  room.  In  scarcely 
more  words  than  I  have  used  here  to  mention  the  fact,  I  told 
him  in  what  relationship  I  stood  towards  the  Count,  and  how 
impossible  it  would  be  for  me  to  use  any  knowledge  I  might 
possess,  to  his  detriment. 

"  I  don't  think  that  you  have  much  option  in  the  matter, 
sir,"  was  his  cold  reply.  "  You  can  be  compelled  to  give 
the  evidence  in  question,  so  that  your  very  excellent  scruples 
need  in  no  wise  be  offended." 


MY   REWARD.  357 

"  Compelled  to  speak,  sir  !  "  cried  I,  in  amazement. 

"  Just  so,"  said  he,  with  a  faint  smile. 

"  And  if  I  still  refuse,  sir?  " 

"  Then  the  law  must  deal  with  you.  Have  you  anything 
more  to  say  to  me  ? " 

"  Nothing,"  said  I,  resolutely  ;  for  now  my  mind  was  deter- 
mined, and  I  no  longer  hesitated  what  course  to  pursue. 

Mr.  Addington  now  returned  to  the  adjoining  room,  and  I 
followed  him.  For  a  few  moments  a  whispered  conversa- 
tion was  maintained  between  him  and  one  or  two  of  the 
others,  after  which  the  magistrate,  a  certain  Mr.  Kirby,  said 
to  me,  — 

"It  appears,  young  man,  that  you  have  a  reluctance, 
from  conscientious  scruples,  about  giving  your  evidence  in 
this  case ;  but  probably  when  I  tell  you  all  that  is  required 
of  you  is  a  simple  act  of  indentification,  and,  moreover,  that 
the  charge  against  the  prisoner  is  the  very  weightiest  in  the 
catalogue  of  crime,  you  will  not  any  longer  hesitate  about 
your  obvious  duty." 

He  waited  for  a  few  seconds ;  but  as  I  made  no  reply,  he 
went  on : — 

"This  Frenchman  is  accused  of  nothing  less  than  the  pre- 
meditation of  a  murder;  that  he  is,  in  fact,  a  hired  assassin, 
paid  for  the  crime  of  murdering  the  exiled  King  of  France. 
The  evidence  against  him  is  exceedingly  strong ;  but,  of 
course,  the  law  will  place  within  his  reach  every  possible 
means  of  defence.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  no  private  or 
personal  feeling  can  exist  in  such  a  case,  and  I  really  do  not 
see  how  you  can  decline  your  aid  to  the  cause  of  justice." 

I  was  still  silent ;  my  difficulties  were  increasing  every 
moment ;  and  as  they  thickened  around  me,  I  needed  time  to 
decide  how  to  proceed. 

Perhaps  my  anxious  appearance  may  have  struck  him,  for 
he  quickly  said,  — 

"  You  will  be  specially  warned  against  saying  anything 
which  might  criminate  yourself,  so  that  you  need  have  no 
fears  on  that  account." 

These  words  at  once  suggested  my  course  to  me;  and 
whatever  peril  there  might  lie  in  the  way,  I  determined  to 
take  shelter  under  the  pretence  that  I  was  myself  implicated 
in  the  conspiracy.     I  do  not  seek  to  excuse  myself  for  such 


358  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

a  subterfuge ;  it  was  the  last  refuge  I  saw  in  the  midst  of 
my  difficulties,  and  I  sought  it  in  all  the  misery  of  half- 
desperation. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  betray  my  confederates,  sir,"  was  my 
dogged  reply  to  his  appeal ;  aud  no  other  could  all  their 
argument  and  entreaties  obtain  from  me. 

Some  of  those  present  could  not  believe  me  guilty,  and 
warmly  pressed  me  to  rescue  myself,  ere  too  late,  from  the 
odious  imputation  ;  others  but  saw  their  previous  impressions 
confirmed  by  what  they  called  my  confession ;  and,  between 
them,  my  poor  head  was  racked  and  tortured  by  turns.  The 
scene  ended  at  last  by  my  being  committed  to  Newgate, 
under  suspicion,  and  till  further  evidence  could  be  adduced 
against  me. 

It  was  clear  that  either  they  greatly  doubted  of  my  guilt, 
or  were  disposed  to  regard  me  as  very  slightly  implicated, 
for  I  was  not  confined  in  a  cell  or  with  the  other  prisoners, 
but  accommodated  with  a  room  in  the  jailer's  own  apartment, 
and  received  as  a  guest  at  his  table. 

I  was  not  only  treated  with  kindness  and  attention  here, 
but  with  a  degree  of  candor  that  amazed  me.  The  daily 
papers  were  freely  placed  before  me,  and  I  read  how  a  well- 
known  member  of  the  "  French  Convention,"  popularly 
called  Couvre-Tete,  but  styling  himself  the  Count  de  Gabriac, 
had  been  brought  up  before  the  magistrates  under  a  charge 
of  a  grave  description,  which,  for  the  ends  of  justice,  had 
been  investigated  with  closed  doors.  Several  others  were  in 
custody  for  their  implication  in  the  same  charge,  it  was 
added,  and  great  hopes  maintained  that  the  guilty  parties 
would  be  made  amenable  to  the  law. 

Mr.  Holt,  the  jailer,  spoke  of  all  the  passing  events  of  the 
day  freely  in  my  presence,  and  discussed  the  politics  and 
position  of  France,  and  the  condition  of  parties,  with  all  the 
ease  of  old  intimacy  between  us.  At  first,  I  half  suspected 
this  to  be  a  mere  artifice  to  lure  me  on  to  some  unguarded 
expression,  or  even  some  frank  admission  about  myself ;  but 
I  gradually  grew  out  of  this  impression,  and  saw  him  as  he 
really  was,  a  straightforward,  honorable  man,  endeavoring 
to  lighten  the  gloom  of  a  dreary  duty  by  acts  of  generosity 
and  benevolence.  Save  that  it  was  captivity,  I  really  had 
nothing  to  complain  of  in  my  life  at  this  period.     Mr.  Holt's 


MY  REWARD.  359 

family  was  numerous,  and  daily  some  two  or  three  guests, 
generally  persons  in  some  degree  placed  similarly  to  myself, 
were  present  at  his  table ;  and  with  these  my  time  passed 
smoothly  and  even  swiftly  along. 

The  confinement,  however,  and  a  depression,  of  which 
I  was  not  conscious  myself,  at  length  made  their  impres- 
sion on  my  health,  and  one  morning  Mr.  Holt  remarked  to 
me  that  I  was  scarcely  looking  so  well  as  usual. 

"It  is  this  place,  I  have  no  doubt,"  said  he,  "disagrees 
with  you ;   but  you  will  be  liberated  in  a  day  or  two." 

"  How  so?"  asked  I,  in  some  surprise. 

"  Have  you  not  heard  of  Gabriac's  death,"  said  he,  "  by 
suicide?  He  was  to  have  been  brought  up  a  second  time 
for  examination  on  Friday  last,  but  he  was  found  dead  in 
his  cell,  by  poison,  on  Thursday  evening." 

I  scarcely  heard  him  through  the  details  which  followed. 
I  only  could  catch  a  stray  expression  here  and  there ;  but  I 
collected  enough  to  learn  that  he  had  written  a  full  exculpa- 
tion of  all  the  others  who  had  been  accused  with  himself, 
and  specially  with  regard  to  me,  of  whom,  also,  it  was 
said,  he  forwarded  some  important  papers  to  some  one 
high  in  station. 

This  conversation  occurred  on  a  Saturday,  and  on  the 
following  Monday  I  was  liberated. 

"I  told  you  how  it  would  be,  Mr.  Carew,"  said  Holt,  as 
he  read  me  out  the  order,  "  and  I  hope  sincerely  there  are 
now  better  and  pleasanter  days  before  you.  More  pros- 
perous ones  they  are  likely  to  be,  for  I  have  a  Secretary 
of  State's  order  to  hand  you  one  hundred  pounds,  which,  I 
can  assure  you,  is  a  rare  event  with  those  who  leave  this." 

"While  I  stood  amazed  at  this  intelligence,  he  went  on : 

"  You  are  also  requested  to  present  yourself  at  Treverton 
House,  Richmond,  to-morrow,  at  eleven  o'clock,  where  a 
person  desires  to  see  and  speak  with  you.  This  comes 
somewhat  in  the  shape  of  a  command,  and  I  hope  you'll 
not  neglect  it." 

I  promised  rigid  obedience  to  the  direction;  and  after  a 
very  grateful  recognition  of  all  I  owed  my  kind  host,  we 
parted,  warm  and  cordial  friends,  and  as  such  I  have  never 
ceased  to  believe  and  regard  him. 


CHAPTER   XXXin. 

A   GLIMPSE    OF    A    NEW    PATH. 

Shall  I  own  it  that  when  I  once  more  found  myself  at 
liberty,  and  with  means  sufficient  for  the  purpose,  my  first 
thought  was  to  leave  England  forever?  So  far  as  I  was 
concerned,  my  country  had  shown  herself  anything  but  a 
kind  mother  to  me.  It  was  an  impulse  of  patriotism  —  a 
vague  desire  to  serve  her  —  had  brought  me  to  her  shores ; 
and  yet  my  requital  had  been  at  first  neglect,  and  at  last 
imprisonment.  Had  I  the  very  slightest  clew  to  where  "  my 
mother  "  and  Raper  were,  I  should  inevitably  have  set  out  to 
seek  them  ;  but  of  the  track  I  knew  nothing  whatever.  I  ran- 
sacked my  few  letters  and  papers,  amongst  which  I  found 
the  yet  undelivered  note  to  the  Pere  Tonsurd ;  and  this  I 
determined  to  present  on  that  very  day.  The  mere  thought 
of  meeting  with  one  to  whom  I  could  speak  of  my  kind 
friends  at  Linange  was  a  comfort  in  the  midst  of  all  my 
desolation. 

On  arriving  at  his  lodgings,  however,  I  learned  that  he 
had  gone  to  Richmond  ;  and  as  suddenly  I  bethought  me  of 
my  own  visit,  the  hour  for  which  had  already  gone  by.  De- 
termining to  repair  my  fault  as  well  as  I  could,  I  set  out 
at  once,  and  by  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  arrived  at  a 
neat-looking  house,  standing  in  a  small  park  that  descended 
to  the  river,  and  which,  they  told  me,  was  Treverton.  All  I 
could  ascertain  of  the  proprietor  was  that  he  was  a  French 
gentleman,  an  emigre,  who  had  lived  there  for  two  years, 
and  was  popularly  known  as  the  "  General,"  his  servants 
always  giving  him  that  title.  I  presented  myself  at  his 
door  and  sent  in  my  card,  with  the  request  that  I  might  be 
admitted  to  an  interview. 

Before  I  could  well  believe  that  my  message  was  de- 
livered,  the  servant  returned  to  say  that  the  General  was 


A  GLIMPSE   OF  A  NEW  PATH.  3G1 

expecting  me  since  morning,  and  desired  to  see  me  at  once. 
I  followed  him  through  two  or  three  rooms  till  we  reached 
a  door  covered  with  green  cloth,  and  which  concealed  an- 
other behind  it,  on  opening  which  I  found  myself  in  a  small 
chamber  fitted  up  like  a  library,  where  two  gentlemen  were 
seated  at  a  table.  One  arose  as  I  entered,  and  in  a  polite, 
but  somewhat  haughty,  tone  said,  — 

"  You  are  scarcely  as  punctual,  sir,  as  I  had  hoped. 
Eleven  o'clock  was,  I  think,  the  hour  mentioned." 

As  the  appointment  had  not  been  of  my  seeking,  I  re- 
turned a  very  cold  and  half-careless  apology  for  my  tardy 
appearance ;  but  he  stopped  me  quietly,  saying,  — 

"  Apparently,  then,  you  have  not  been  informed  as  to  the 
object  of  this  visit,  nor  by  whom  —  " 

A  hasty  gesture  from  the  other  interrupted  his  speech,  and 
he  stopped  short. 

''I  mean,"  added  he,  "that  you  are  unaware  of  the 
reason  for  which  your  presence  here  has  been  requested." 

"I  have  not  the  slightest  knowledge  of  it,  sir,"  was  my 
reply. 

"  We  wished  to  see  and  speak  with  you  about  many  things 
in  France,  sir.  You  have  latterly  been  there?  We  are 
given  to  understand  that  you  are  a  shrewd  observer,  and 
we  desire  to  learn  your  views  of  events,  and  of  the  people 
who  direct  them.  Our  own  informant  induces  us  to  believe 
that  the  tide  of  popular  favor  is  turning  against  the  men  of 
violent  opinions,  and  that  a  wiser  and  healthier  tone  pervades 
the  nation.     Does  that  agree  with  your  experience?" 

"Quite  so,  sir;  there  cannot  be  a  second  opinion  on  the 
question." 

"  And  the  old  attachment  to  the  monarchy  is  again  dis- 
playing itself,  far  and  near,  through  the  country  ?  "  added 
he,  warmly. 

"  There  I  cannot  go  with  you,  sir,"  was  my  answer;  and 
although  his  look  was  a  fierce,  almost  an  angry  one,  I  con- 
tinued :  "The  military  spirit  is  that  which  now  sways  the 
nation,  and  he  who  can  best  gratify  the  thirst  of  glory  will 
be  the  ruler.  The  kings  of  France  have  been  but  pageants 
of  late." 

"  Be  discreet,  sir.     Speak  of  what  you  know,  and  do  not 


362  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

dare  to  insult  —  "  be  paused,  and  then  added,  "  an  ancient 
follower  of  bis  sovereign." 

His  age  and  his  fervor  repressed  any  resentment  the 
speech  might  have  suggested,  and  I  only  said,  — 

"  You  asked  me  for  opinions,  sir,  and  I  gave  you  mine 
frankly.  You  must  not  be  displeased  if  they  do  not  always 
chime  with  your  own." 

"  Monsieur  is  perfectly  right.  His  remark  is  a  just  one," 
said  the  other,  who  now  spoke  for  the  first  time. 

"I  think  he  is  mistaken,  though,"  replied  the  former. 
' '  1  fancy  that  he  is  led  away  by  that  vulgar  cant  which 
sees  in  the  degradation  of  one  solitary  individual  the 
abasement  of  his  whole  class  and  order.  By  the  way,  you 
knew  that  same  Count  de  Gabriac?" 

I  bowed  my  assent. 

' '  You  may  speak  freely  of  him  now  he  is  past  the  con- 
sequences of  either  our  censure  or  our  praise.  You  know, 
perhaps,  that  he  completely  exonerated  you  from  all  share 
in  his  odious  scheme,  and  at  the  same  time  communicated 
certain  particulars  about  yourself  which  suggested  the 
desire  to  see  you  here." 

"Yes,"  said  the  other,  with  a  faint  but  very  pleasing 
smile.  "We  are  relatives,  Monsieur  Carew;  and  if  all  that 
I  hear  of  you  be  true,  I  shall  not  disown  the  relationship." 

"  You  knew  my  dear  mother,  then,"  cried  I,  wild  with  the 
glad  thought. 

"Pardon  me,"  said  he,  slowly,  "I  had  not  that  honor. 
I  have,  however,  frequently  heard  of  her  beauty  and  her 
fascination ;  but  I  never  saw  her." 

The  General  here  whispered  a  few  words,  to  which  the 
other  replied  aloud,  — 

"Be  it  so,  then.  My  friend  here,"  resumed  he,  address- 
ing me,  "is  of  opinion  that  your  information  and  habits 
would  well  fit  you  for  a  task  which  will  be  at  once  one  of 
emolument  and  trust.  The  English  minister  has  already 
pointed  you  out  as  a  suitable  agent,  and  nothing  but  your 
own  concurrence  is  now  needed." 

I  begged  for  a  further  explanation ;  and  he  briefly  told 
me  that  the  Royalist  party,  not  alone  throughout  France, 
but   in   different   parts   of    the  Continent,  where  they  had 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  A  NEW  PATH.  363 

sought  refuge,  were  distracted  and  broken  up  for  want  of 
due  intercourse  with  each  other  and  with  the  head  of  their 
party ;  that  false  intelligence  and  fictitious  stories  had  been 
circulated  industriously  to  sow  discord  and  disunion  amongst 
them ;  and  that  nothing  but  an  actual,  direct,  and  personal 
agency  could  efiiciently  counteract  this  peril  and  restore 
confidence  and  stability  to  the  party.  Many  —  some  of 
them  men  of  the  highest  rank  —  had  taken  service  in  this 
way  ;  some  had  condescended  to  accept  of  the  very  humblest 
stations,  and  almost  menial  duties,  where  they  could  obtain 
information  of  value ;  and  all  were  ready  to  risk  life  and 
fortune  for  the  Prince  to  whom  they  owed  their  allegiance. 

"  But  you  forget,  sir,  that  the  loyalty  which  reflects  such 
honor  on  them  would  be  wanting  in  my  case :  I  am  not  a 
Frenchman." 

"But  your  mother  was  French,"  said  he  who  sat  at  the 
table,  "  and  of  the  best  blood  of  France  too.  I  have  told 
you  we  are  relations." 

A  gesture  of  caution  from  the  General  stopped  him  here, 
and  he  was  silent.  I  saw  there  was  embarrassment  some- 
where ;  but  on  what  ground  I  knew  not.  More  to  relieve 
the  awkwardness  of  the  moment  than  from  any  other  inten- 
tion, I  asked  what  my  duties  might  be  in  this  capacity. 

"  On  that  head  you  will  receive  the  fullest  instructions," 
said  the  General.  "  Once  say  that  you  are  ready  and  at 
our  disposal,  and  we  shall  supply  you  with  every  means  and 
every  knowledge  you  can  wish  for." 

"  May  I  have  a  little  time  to  consider  of  it,  sir?  "  asked  I. 
"  A  night,  for  instance?" 

"Yes,  a  night, — certainly;  only  remember  that  whether 
you  accept  or  refuse,  this  interview  is  a  secret,  and  not  to 
be  divulged  to  any  one." 

"  I  shall  so  consider  it,"  said  I. 

"  You  will,  then,  be  here  to-morrow  at  ten,  —  at  ten,  re- 
member,  and  this  time  punctually."  And  with  that  he  bowed 
me  ceremoniously  to  the  door,  the  other  waving  his  hand 
more  familiarly,  and  wishing  me  a  good-bye  as  I  passed 
out. 

As  I  reached  the  outer  gate  of  the  lawn,  a  servant  hastily 
overtook  me.     It  was  a  gentleman,  he  said,  who  wished  to 


364  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

return  to  London,  begged  permission  to  accompany  me,  if  I 
would  so  far  oblige  him. 

"  With  pleasure,"  said  I.  "  Will  you  favor  me  with  his 
name?  " 

"  The  Abbe  Tonsurd." 

"The  Abbe  Tonsurd!  —  the  very  man  of  all  others  I 
wished  to  meet !  "  And  while  I  was  just  rejoicing  over  my 
good  fortune  on  the  occurrence,  he  came  hurrying  forward 
to  offer  me  his  thanks. 

"  Chance  has  favored  me  for  once,  Monsieur  l'Abbe," 
said  I,  "  since  I  have  the  good  fortune  to  see  one  to  whom 
I  have  a  letter  of  introduction.  I  called  this  very  morning 
at  your  lodgings  to  deliver  this." 

"  Oh,  the  rare  good  luck  indeed,"  cried  he,  breaking 
open  the  seal  and  rapidly  perusing  the  contents.  "  That 
dear  Ursule,"  said  he,  with  something  very  near  to  a  smile, 
"  always  so  good  and  so  confiding,  trusts  even  after  hope 
has  departed.  But  tell  me  rather  of  themselves  ;  for  this  is 
the  theme  she  has  not  spoken  of." 

I  rapidly  related  all  that  I  knew  of  the  family.  I  saw, 
however,  that  his  mind  was  wandering  from  the  subject  ere 
I  had  finished. 

"And  you,"  said  he,  suddenly,  "when  do  you  set  out 
on  your  mission?  " 

"  I  have  not  decided  on  accepting  it." 

"Not  decided!  Can  you  hesitate,  can  you  waver  for  a 
moment?  Has  not  the  Count  himself  charged  you  with  his 
commands  ?  " 

"  And  who  may  the  Count  be?  "  asked  I. 

"  His  Majesty  the  rightful  king  of  France.  You  cannot 
be  well  versed  in  physiognomy,  or  you  must  have  recog- 
uized  the  royal  features  of  his  race.  He  is  every  inch  a 
Bourbon." 

"  He  who  sat  at  the  table?  " 

"  The  same.  The  General  Guerronville  is  reckoned  hand- 
some ;  but  he  is  vulgar  and  commonplace  when  seen  beside 
his  Majesty." 

The  Abbe,  to  whom,  doubtless,  the  letter  imparted  suffi- 
cient to  give  him  full  confidence  in  me,  spoke  frankly  and 
openly  of   the  Royalist  party,    their  hopes   and   fears   and 


A  CLIMPSE  OF  A  NEW  PATH.  365 

future  prospects.  He  eveu  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  they 
were  losing"  confidence  in  the  English  Government,  of  whose 
designs  for  a  peace  they  entertained  deep  suspicion.  Turn- 
ing hastily  from  this,  he  urged  me  earnestly  not  to  decline 
the  duty  proposed  to  me,  and  said  at  last,  — 

"  That  if  no  other  argument  could  weigh  with  me,  per- 
sonal advantage  might,  and  that  success  in  my  enterprise 
was  my  fortune  made  forever." 

While  he  was  thus  speaking,  I  was  only  dwelling  upon 
what  I  could  recall  of  my  late  scene  with  the  King  of  France, 
and  wondering  what  he  possibly  could  mean  by  a  relation- 
ship between  us.  The  Abbe  explained  the  difficulty  away 
by  a  careless  reply  as  to  the  various  small  channels  into 
which  the  royal  blood  had  been  diverted,  by  obscure 
marriages  and  the  like. 

"  At  all  events,"  said  he,  "  if  his  Majesty  could  remember 
the  tie,  it  would  come  badly  from  you  to  forget  it.  Accept 
this  offer,  therefore,  and  be  assured  that  you  will  serve 
yourself  even  more  than  his  cause." 

It  was  not  very  difficult  to  persuade  me ;  and  even  where 
his  arguments  failed,  my  own  necessities  urged  me  to  accept 
the  offer.  I  therefore  agreed,  and,  charging  the  Abbe  to 
convey  ir^  sentiments  of  gratitude  for  the  trust  reposed  in 
me,  1  stated  my  readiness  to  set  out  at  once  wherever  it 
was  deemed  necessary  to  employ  me ;  and  with  this  I  lay 
down  to  rest,  more  at  ease  in  heart  than  I  had  felt  for 
months  long. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

SECRET    SERVICE. 

When  I  come  to  reflect  over  the  space  I  have  devoted  in 
these  memoirs  of  my  life  to  slight  and  unimportant  circum- 
stances,—  the  small  incidents  of  a  purely  personal  character, 
—  I  feel  that  I  owe  my  readers  an  apology  for  passing 
rapidly  over  events  of  real  moment.  My  excuse,  however, 
is,  the  events  were  such  as  to  render  my  share  in  them  most 
humble  and  insignificant.  My  figure  was  never  a  foreground 
one ;  and  in  the  great  drama  that  Europe  then  played,  my 
part  was  obscure  indeed.  It  is  true,  I  was  conversant  with 
stirring  themes.  I  had  on  many  occasions  opportunities  of 
meeting  with  the  mighty  intelligences  that  gave  the  world 
its  destiny  for  the  time ;  but  in  no  history  will  there  ever  be 
a  record  of  the  humble  name  of  Paul  Gervois.  Such  I  now 
found  myself  called  ;  and  the  passport  delivered  to  me  called 
me,  in  addition,  "Agent  secret."  It  is  true,  I  had  another, 
which  represented  me  as  travelling  for  a  Dutch  commercial 
house ;  but  the  former  was  the  document  which,  in  my 
interviews  with  prefects  and  men  in  authority,  I  made 
use  of,  and  which  at  once  obtained  for  me  protection 
and  respect. 

It  is  well  known  that  the  rightful  king  of  France  in  his 
exile  made  a  personal  appeal  by  letters  to  Bonaparte  to 
induce  him  to  devote  his  genius  and  influence  to  the  cause 
of  the  monarchy.  The  example  of  Monk  was  cited,  and  the 
boundless  gratitude  of  royalty  pledged  on  the  issue.  The 
fact  is  history.  Of  this  memorable  note  I  was  the  bearer. 
Looking  back  at  the  wondrous  destiny  of  that  great  man, 
such  an  overture  may  easily  appear  vain  and  absurd  to  a 
degree ;  but  it  was  by  no  means  so  destitute  of  all  chance  of 
success  at  the  time  in  which  it  was  made.     Of  this  I  feel 


SECRET  SERVICE.  3G7 

assured,  and  for  the  following  reason  :  There  was  a  fre- 
quent interchange  of  letters  between  the  persons  attached 
to  the  exiled  family  and  leading  members  of  the  then  French 
Government.  This  correspondence  was  carried  on  by  secret 
agents,  who  were  suffered  to  pass  freely  from  capital  to 
capital,  and  more  than  once  intrusted  with  even  verbal 
communications.  These  agents  were  rigidly  instructed  to 
limit  themselves  strictly  to  the  duty  assigned  to  them,  and 
neither  to  use  their  opportunities  for  personal  objects,  nor 
for  the  acquirement  of  information  on  subjects  foreign  to 
their  mission.  They  were  narrowly  watched,  and  I  believe 
myself  that  a  secret  espionage  was  maintained  expressly  to 
observe  them.  The  sudden  disappearance  of  more  than  one 
amongst  them  fully  warrants  the  suspicion  that  indiscretion 
had  paid  its  greatest  and  last  penalty. 

By  the  means  of  these  persons,  then,  a  close  and  compact 
correspondence  was  maintained,  —  a  tone  of  familiarity,  and 
even  frankness,  was,  I  am  assured,  paraded  in  it ;  while,  in 
reality,  the  object  of  each  side  was  purely  treacherous.  At 
one  time  it  was  a  proposition  to  some  high  and  leading  in- 
dividual to  desert  his  party  and  espouse  that  of  its  oppo- 
nents ;  at  another,  it  was  an  artful  description  of  the  decline 
of  revolutionary  doctrines,  made  purposely  to  draw  from 
the  Royalists  some  confession  of  their  own  future  inten- 
tions ;  while,  more  important  than  all,  there  came  a  letter 
in  Bonaparte's  own  hand,  offering  to  Louis  a  sum  of  several 
millions  of  francs,  in  return  for  a  formal  renunciation  of 
all  right  to  that  throne  from  which  his  destiny  seemed  suffi- 
ciently to  exclude  him.  What  a  curious  page  of  history  will 
it  fill  when  this  secret  correspondence  shall  one  clay  see  the 
light !  I  know,  of  my  own  knowledge,  that  a  great  part  of 
it  is  still  in  existence,  though  in  the  hands  of  those  who  have 
Mil  id  reasons  for  not  revealing  it. 

At  the  time  when  I  first  joined  this  secret  service,  the 
interchange  of  letters  was  more  than  ordinarily  great.  The 
momentous  change  which  had  taken  place  in  France  by  the 
ascendancy  of  Bonaparte  had  imparted  new  hopes  to  the 
Royalist  party ;  and  they  were  profuse  in  their  expressions 
of  admiration  for  the  man  who  of  all  the  world  was  fated  to 
be  the  deadliest  enemy  of  their  race.     Their  gratitude  was, 


368  SIR   JASPER   CAREW. 

indeed,  boundless,  —  at  least,  it  transcended  the  usual  limits 
of  the  virtue,  since  it  went  so  far  as  to  betray  the  cause  of 
the  very  nation  to  which  they  were  at  the  very  same  moment 
beholden  for  a  refuge  and  an  asylum !  Secret  information 
of  the  views  of  the  English  cabinet ;  the  opinions  of  states- 
men about  the  policy  of  the  war ;  the  resources,  the  plans, 
even  the  discontents,  of  the  country  were  all  commented  on 
and  detailed ;  while  carefully  drawn-up  statistics  were  for- 
warded, setting  forth  the  ships  in  commission  or  in  readiness 
for  sea,  with  every  circumstance  that  could  render  the 
information  valuable. 

I  know  not  if  the  English  Government  looked  with  con- 
tempt on  these  intrigues,  or  whether  they  themselves  did  not 
acquire  information  more  valuable  than  that  they  connived 
at ;  for  assuredly  every  secret  agent  was  well  known  to  them, 
and  more  than  one  actually  in  their  pay.  Of  myself,  I  can 
boldly  say  such  was  not  the  case.  I  traversed  the  Conti- 
nent, from  Hamburg  to  Naples;  I  passed  freely  across 
Europe  in  every  direction ;  and  on  my  return  to  England  I 
met  neither  molestation  nor  hindrance,  nor  did  I  attract  any 
more  attention  than  an  ordinary  traveller.  If  I  owed  this 
immunity  to  a  settled  plan  I  had  set  down  for  my  guidance, 
it  is  equally  true  that  it  impeded  my  promotion,  and  left  me 
in  the  rank  of  those  who  were  less  secret  agents  than  mere 
messengers.  My  plan  was  to  appear  totally  ignorant  of  the 
countries  through  which  I  journeyed,  neither  remarking  the 
events,  nor  being  able  to  afford  any  tidings  about  them.  I 
was  not  ignorant  of  the  injury  this  course  of  action  inflicted 
on  my  prospects.  I  saw  myself  passed  over  for  others  of 
less  capacity;  I  noticed  the  class  with  which  I  was  asso- 
ciated as  belonging  to  the  humblest  members  of  the  walk ; 
and  I  even  overheard  myself  quoted  as  unfit  for  this,  and 
unequal  to  that.  Shall  I  own  at  once  that  the  career  was 
distasteful  to  me  in  the  highest  degree?  Conceal  it  how  we 
could,  wear  what  appellation  we  might,  we  were  only  spies; 
and  any  estimation  we  were  held  in  simply  depended  on 
whatever  abilities  we  could  display  in  this  odious  capacity. 
It  was,  then,  in  a  sort  of  compromise  with  my  pride  that 
I  stooped  to  the  lowest  grade,  rather  than  win  my  advance- 
ment by  the  low  arts  of  the  eavesdropper. 


SECRET  SERVICE.  369 

If  I  seemed  utterly  incapable  of  those  efforts  which  de- 
pended on  tact  and  worldly  skill,  my  employers  freely 
acknowledged  that,  as  a  messenger,  I  had  no  equal.  No 
difficulties  could  arrest  my  progress;  the  most  arduous  jour- 
neys I  surmounted  with  ease ;  the  least-frequented  roads 
were  all  familiar  to  me.  Three,  four,  and  even  five  days 
consecutively  have  I  passed  in  the  saddle ;  and  whether  over 
the  rude  sierras  of  Spain,  the  wild  paths  of  the  Apennines, 
or  the  hot  sands  of  the  desert,  no  fatigue  ever  compelled 
me  to  halt.  The  Royalist  partisans  were  scattered  over  the 
whole  globe.  Some  of  them  had  taken  service  in  the  Ger- 
man armies ;  some  were  in  the  Neapolitan  service ;  some 
had  abjured  their  religion,  and  were  high  in  command  over 
the  Sultan's  troops ;  and  many  had  emigrated  to  America, 
where  they  settled.  Wherever  they  were,  whatever  cloth 
they  wore,  or  the  flag  they  were  ranged  under,  they  had 
but  one  cause  and  one  hope,  —  the  restoration  of  the  Bour- 
bons ;  and  for  this  were  they  ever  ready  to  abandon  any 
eminence  they  might  have  gained,  or  any  fame  or  fortune 
they  had  acquired,  to  rally  at  a  moment  beneath  the  banner 
of  him  thej7  regarded  as  their  true  and  rightful  sovereign. 
I  knew  them  well,  for  I  saw  them  near.  Their  littleness, 
their  jealousies,  their  absurd  vanity  and  egregious  preten- 
sions, were  all  well  known  to  me  ;  but  many  a  time  have  I 
felt  a  sort  of  contemptuous  scorn  of  them  repelled  by  reflect- 
ing over  the  heroic  and  chivalrous  loyalty  which  bound  them 
to  a  cause  so  all  but  hopeless.  If  it  be  asked  why  I  re- 
mained in  a  career  so  distasteful  to  me,  and  served  a  cause 
to  which  no  sympathy  bound  me,  my  answer  is,  that  I  fol- 
lowed it  with  an  object  which  had  engrossed  every  ambition 
and  every  wish  of  my  heart;  and  this  was  to  find  out  "  my 
mother  "  and  Raper.  I  knew  that  the  secrets  of  my  birth 
were  known  to  them,  and  that  with  them  alone,  of  all 
the  world,  lay  the  clew  to  my  family  and  kindred.  While 
the  Count  lived,  my  mother  — •  I  cannot  call  her  by  any 
other  name  —  was  fearful  of  revealing  circumstances  to  me, 
of  which  he  would  not  suffer  any  mention  in  his  presence. 
This  barrier  was  now  removed.  Besides,  I  had  grown  up 
to  manhood,  and  had  a  better  pretension  to  ask  for  the 
satisfaction  of  my  curiosity. 

24 


370  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

This  was,  then,  the  stimulus  that  supported  me  in  many 
a  long  and  weary  journey ;  this  the  hope  that  sustained 
me  through  every  reverse  of  fortune,  and  through  what  is 
still  harder  to  bear,  —  the  solitude  of  my  lonely,  friendless 
lot.  By  degrees,  however,  it  began  to  fail  within  me ; 
frequent  disappointment  at  last  so  chilled  my  ardor  that 
I  almost  determined  to  abandon  the  pursuit  forever,  and 
with  it  a  career  which  I  detested.  The  slightest  accident 
that  foreshadowed  a  prospect  of  success  was  still  enough 
to  make  me  change  my  resolve ;  and  thus  I  lived  on, 
vacillating  now  to  this  side,  now  to  that,  and  enduring  the 
protracted  tortures  of  expectation. 

It  was  in  one  of  these  moments,  when  despair  was  in  the 
ascendant,  that  I  received  an  order  to  set  out  for  Reichenau 
and  obtain  certain  papers  which  had  been  left  there  in 
the  keeping  of  Monsieur  Jost,  the  property  of  a  certain 
person  whose  initial  was  the  letter  C.  I  was  given  to 
understand  that  the  documents  were  of  great  importance, 
and  the  mission  one  to  be  executed  with  promptitude.  I 
had  almost  decided  on  abandoning  this  pursuit.  The  very 
note  in  which  I  should  communicate  my  resignation  was 
begun  on  the  table,  when  the  Abb6,  who  generally  was 
the  bearer  of  my  instructions,  came  to  convey  this  order. 
He  was  in  a  mood  of  unusual  gayety  and  frankness ;  and 
after  rallying  me  on  my  depression,  and  jestingly  pointing 
out  the  great  rewards  which  one  day  or  other  would  be 
bestowed  upon  me,  he  told  me  that  the  tidings  from  France 
were  of  the  very  best  kind,  that  the  insolent  airs  of 
Bonaparte  were  detaching  from  him  many  of  his  stanchest 
adherents,  that  Pichegru  openly,  and  Bernadotte  secretly, 
had  abandoned  him ;  Davoust  had  ceased  to  visit  at  his 
house ;  while  Lasalle  and  others  of  less  note  were  heard 
to  declare  that  if  they  were  to  have  a  master,  at  least  it 
should  be  one  who  was  born  to  the  station  that  conferred 
command. 

"We  knew,"  continued  he,  joyously,  "that  we  had  only 
to  leave  this  man  alone,  and  he  would  be  his  own  execu- 
tioner ;  and  the  event  has  only  come  a  little  earlier  than 
we  looked  for.  These  papers  for  which  you  are  now  de- 
spatched contain  a  secret  correspondence  between   a  great 


SECRET  SERVICE.  371 

personage  and  some  of  the  most  distinguished  generals  of 
the  Republic." 

He  said  much  more  on  this  theme,  —  indeed,  he  sat  late, 
and  talked  of  nothing  else ;  but  I  paid  little  attention  to  the 
subject.  I  had  over  and  over  again  heard  the  same  observa- 
tion ;  and  at  least  a  dozen  eventful  crises  had  occurred  when 
the  Republic  was  declared  in  its  last  struggle,  and  the  cause 
of  the  king  triumphant. 

"I  perceive,"  said  he,  at  last,  "you  are  less  sanguine 
than  I  am.     Is  it  not  so?" 

"  You  mistake  me,  Monsieur  l'Abbe,"  said  I ;  "  my  depres- 
sion has  a  selfish  origin.  I  have  been  long  weary  of  this 
career  of  mine,  and  the  note  which  you  see  there  was  the 
beginning  of  a  formal  renunciation  of  it." 

"It  is  impossible  you  could  be  so  insane,"  cried  he. 
"  You  are  not  one  of  that  vulgar  herd  that  can  be  scared 
from  a  noble  duty  by  a  mere  name.  It  is  not  the  word 
'  spy '  that  could  wound  you,  enlisted  as  you  are  in  the 
noblest  cause  that  ever  engaged  heroism,  and  in  which  the 
first  men  of  France  are  your  associates." 

"  I  am  no  Frenchman,  Abbe,"  said  I;  "  remember  that." 

"  Rut  you  are  a  good  Catholic,"  said  he,  promptly,  "  and, 
Ursule  tells  me,  well  versed  in  every  duty  of  the  faith." 

I  by  no  means  fancied  the  turn  our  discussion  was  likely 
to  take.  More  than  once  before  had  the  Abbe  made 
allusion  to  the  principles  which  he  hoped  might  animate  me, 
and  which  at  some  future  time  might  obtain  for  me  an 
admission  into  his  own  order  ;  so  I  hastily  changed  the  topic, 
by  declaring  that  this  journey  I  should  certainly  undertake, 
whatever  resolve  I  might  come  to  for  the  future. 

He  had  far  too  much  tact  to  persevere  on  an  unpleasant 
theme,  and  after  some  further  allusion  to  the  prospects 
before  me  he  wished  me  good-night,  and  left  me.  I  took 
my  departure  the  next  morning  for  Hamburg ;  since  latterly 
some  impediments  had  been  thrown  in  our  way  about  land- 
ing in  France,  and  the  process  of  verifying  our  passports 
as  "  agents  secrets"  occupied  much  time,  and  caused  delay. 
On  the  journey  thither  I  made  acquaintance  with  a  young 
Pole,  who,  exchanging  with  me  the  private  signal,  showed 
that  he  was  a  "  brother  of  the  craft."     He  was  a  tine,  dash- 


372  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

ing,  good-looking  fellow,  with  a  certain  air  of  pretension 
and  swagger  about  hirn  that  savored  more  of  the  adventurer 
than  of  the  character  he  wished  to  assume.  He  told  me  that 
he  was  the  son  of  the  Empress  Catherine,  and  that  his  father 
had  been  a  soldier  of  the  Imperial  Guard.  The  story  might 
or  might  not  have  been  true,  but  at  all  events  he  seemed  to 
believe  and  was  exceedingly  vain  of  it. 

With  all  the  secret  plotting  and  political  intrigue  of  the 
day  he  appeared  quite  conversant,  and  found  it  difficult  to 
believe  in  my  ignorance  or  apathy. 

"  I  conceive,"  said  he,  at  last,  "  that  you  are  one  of  those 
who  feel  ashamed  of  your  position,  and  dislike  the  word 
'  spy.'  Be  it  so;  it  is  not  a  flattering  name.  But  have  we 
not  within  ourselves  the  power  to  extort  by  force  the  degree 
of  consideration  we  would  be  held  in?  Any  act  of  insubor- 
dination from  one  or  two,  or  even  three  of  us,  would  be 
sure  to  meet  its  penalty.  That  price  has  been  paid  before." 
[Here  he  made  a  significant  sign,  by  rapidly  drawing  his 
hand  across  his  throat.]  "But  if  we  combined,  met  at 
some  appointed  spot,  discussed  our  rights,  and  agreed  upon 
the  means  of  asserting  them,  do  you  believe  that  there 
exists  the  king  or  kaiser  who  could  refuse  the  demand?  It 
is  not  enough  for  me  that  I  can  pass  a  frontier  by  a  secret 
signal,  enter  a  minister's  cabinet  while  others  wait  in  the 
antechamber,  or  even  ascend  the  back  stairs  of  a  palace. 
I  want  a  place  and  a  recognition  in  society;  I  want  that 
standing  in  the  world  to  which  my  habits  and  manners 
entitle  me,  and  for  which  now  my  hand  is  ever  on  the  hilt  of 
a  rapier  or  the  trigger  of  a  pistol  to  secure.  It  is  an  out- 
rage on  us  that  this  has  been  delayed  so  long ;  but  if  it  be 
deferred  a  little  longer,  the  remedy  will  have  passed  from 
our  hands.  Already  some  of  the  governments  of  the  Con- 
tinent begin  to  suspect  that  the  system  works  badly." 

"My  astonishment  is  only  that  it  ever  could  have  been 
permitted,"  broke  I  in;  "  for  it  is  plain  that  to  know  the 
secrets  of  others,  each  country  has  had  to  sacrifice  its 
own." 

He  gave  a  smile  of  supreme  contempt,  and  replied,  — 

"  You  are  but  an  apprentice  of  the  trade,  after  all,  Mon- 
sieur Gervois,  though  I  have  often  heard  you  called  a  man 


SECRET  SERVICE.  373 

of  tact  and  shrewdness.  Do  you  not  know  that  we  are  not 
the  agents  of  governments  or  of  cabinets,  but  of  those  who 
rule  cabinets,  dread  them,  and  betray  them?  The  half-dozen 
crowned  heads  who  rule  Europe  form  a  little  fraternity 
apart  from  all  the  world.  The  interests,  the  passions,  the 
jealousies,  and  the  ambition  of  the  several  nations  may 
involve  them  in  wars,  compel  them  to  stand  in  hostility 
against  each  other  and  be  what  is  called  great  enemies ;  but 
while  their  cannon  are  thundering  and  their  cavalry  charg- 
ing, while  squadrons  are  crashing  and  squares  are  breaking, 
they  for  whose  sake  the  blood  is  shed  and  life  poured  forth 
are  calmly  considering  whether  they  should  gain  most  by 
victory  or  defeat,  and  how  far  the  great  cause  —  the  subju- 
gation of  the  masses  to  the  will  of  one  —  can  be  benefited  or 
retarded  by  any  policy  they  would  pursue." 

I  need  not  follow  him  in  his  reasonings, — indeed,  they 
were  more  ingenious  and  astute  than  I  should  be  able  to  con- 
vey by  repetition.  His  theory  was,  that  the  rulers  of  states 
maintained  a  secret  understanding  with  each  other;  that 
however  the  casualties  of  fortune  should  fall  heavily  on  their 
countries,  they  themselves  should  be  exempted  from  such 
consequences ;  and  that  the  people  might  fall,  but  dynasties 
should  be  spared.  As  long  as  the  Bourbons  sat  on  the 
throne  of  France,  the  compact  was  a  safe  and  a  sure  one. 
The  Revolution,  however,  has  broken  up  the  sacred  league, 
and  none  can  tell  now  what  people  are  next  ripe  for  revolt. 
As  Bonaparte  for  the  moment  represents  power  in  France, 
every  effort  has  been  made  by  the  sovereign  to  draw  him 
into  this  alliance,  —  not,  of  course,  to  found  a  dynasty, 
but  to  serve  the  cause  of  the  rightful  one.  I  abstain  from 
entering  more  fully  into  his  views,  or  citing  the  mass  of 
proofs  by  which  he  endeavored  to  sustain  them.  If  not 
convinced  by  his  arguments,  I  am  free  to  own  that  they 
made  a  deep  impression  upon  me ;  rendered  more  so,  per- 
haps, from  the  number  of  circumstances  I  could  myself 
call  to  mind  which  in  my  own  secret  service  tended  to 
corroborate  them. 

I  asked  him  whither  he  was  then  going,  and  he  told  me  to 
Moscow. 

••Russia  and  England  meditate  a  war,"  said  he,  "the 
two  cabinets  are  embroiled ;    and    I  am   hastening  with  an 


374  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

autograph  letter  from,  one  great  personage  to  another  to  say 
with  what  regret  he  countersigns  a  policy  so  distasteful,  and 
how  sincerely  he  preserves  the  tie  of  personal  friendship. 
Believe  me,"  said  he,  laughing,  "  we  are  the  professed 
traitors  of  the  world ;  but  we  are  simple-hearted  and  honest, 
if  weighed  in  the  scale  with  those  who  employ  us !  " 

If  I  was  amused  by  much  of  what  he  said,  I  was  also 
piqued  at  the  tone  of  superiority  he  assumed  towards  me,  as 
he  very  frankly  intimated  that  bj7  the  low  estimation  in 
which  I  held  my  walk  in  life  I  had  contrived  to  make  it  still 
meaner  and  lower. 

"  It  rests  with  ourselves,"  said  he,  "  to  be  the  diplomatists 
of  Europe.  Your  men  who  pore  over  treaties  and  maps 
and  protocols  may  plan  and  scheme  to  their  hearts'  content ; 
but  we  can  act.  If  I  choose  to  change  the  destination  of  this 
letter,  and  deliver  it  at  Berlin  or  Vienna ;  or  if  I  go  forward 
now  to  Moscow,  and  convey  the  answer  to  Paris,  instead  of 
Loudon,  do  you  not  suppose  that  the  world  would  feel  it,  and 
to  its  very  centre,  too  ?  " 

He  paused  for  a  minute  or  two,  and  then  added,  — 

"  You  are  wondering  all  this  while  within  yourself  why 
one  who  knows  so  well  the  price  of  treason  has  not  earned 
it ;  and  shall  I  tell  you  ?  I  am  not  always  aware  of  the  value 
of  my  tidings.  I  may  be  charged  with  a  secret  treaty.  It 
may  be  a  piece  of  court  gossip,  the  mishap  of  an  archduchess, 
or  the  portrait  of  a  court  favorite.  This  very  letter  —  whose 
contents  I  believe  I  know  —  I  am  perhaps  deceived  in. 
Who  can  tell,  till  it  be  opened,  if  my  treachery  be  worth  a 
farthing  ?  " 

If  there  was  anything  wanting  to  the  measure  of  abhorrence 
with  which  I  regarded  my  career,  it  was  amply  supplied  by 
such  doctrines  as  these ;  but  probably  much  of  the  disgust 
they  were  calculated  to  inspire  was  lost  in  the  amusement 
the  narrator  afforded  me.  Everything  about  him  bespoke 
levity  rather  than  systematic  rascality ;  and  yet  he  was  one 
who  appeared  to  have  thought  profoundly  on  men  and  the 
world. 

"  I  '11  wager  a  crown,"  said  he,  as  we  jumped  into  the  boat 
that  was  to  row  us  on  shore,  "that  you  are  fully  bent  on 
hiding  yourself  and  your  shame  in  the  '  Golden  Plover,'  or 
the  '  Pilot's  Rest,'  or  some  such  obscure  hotel ;  but  this  you 


SECRET  SERVICE.  375 

shall  not  for  the  present.  You  are  my  guest  while  we  stay 
at  Hamburg.  Unfortunately,  the  time  must  needs  be  brief 
to  both  of  us.  To-morrow  we  shall  be  on  the  road ;  but 
to-day  is  our  own." 

I  did  not  consent  without  reluctance ;  but  he  would  not 
take  a  refusal,  and  so  I  yielded  ;  and  away  we  went  together 
to  the  "  Schleswicker  Hof,"  a  magnificent  hotel  in  the  finest 
quarter  of  the  town. 

"  No  need  to  show  your  passport  to  any  one,"  said  he  to 
me,  in  a  whisper,  as  we  entered  the  house;  "I'll  arrange 
all." 

By  the  time  I  had  refreshed  myself  with  a  bath  and 
dressed,  the  waiter  came  to  say  that  Count  Ysaffich  was 
waiting  dinner  for  me ;  and  though  I  gladly  would  have 
asked  a  few  particulars  of  one  with  whose  name  and  person 
he  seemed  evidently  acquainted,  there  was  no  time  allowed 
me,  as  he  led  the  way  to  a  splendid  apartment,  where  the 
table  was  already  spread. 

It  was  not  without  an  effort  that  I  recognized  my  friend 
the  Count  in  his  change  of  costume ;  for,  though  good-look- 
ing and  even  handsome  before,  he  might  now  strike  the 
beholder  with  admiration.  He  wore  a  blue  military  pelisse, 
richly  braided  with  gold,  and  fastened  with  large  Branden- 
burg buttons.  It  was  sufficiently  open  in  front  to  display 
a  vest  of  scarlet  cloth,  all  slashed  with  gold.  His  trousers 
were  black,  with  a  broad  gold  band  along  the  sides,  while  a 
richly  embossed  belt  of  Russia  leather  supported  a  sabre  of 
most  costly  and  gorgeous  make.  He  wore  several  handsome 
decorations,  and  around  the  throat,  by  a  broad  blue  ribbon, 
a  splendid  diamond  cross,  with  the  letters  "P.  C."  in  the 
centre^ 

"  I  have  not  dressed  for  dinner,"  said  he,  as  I  entered, 
"  since  we  must  take  a  stroll  under  the  linden-trees  when  it 
grows  cool,  and  have  our  cigar  there.  After  that,  we  '11  look 
in  at  the  opera ;  and  if  not  very  attractive,  I  '11  present  you 
at  one  or  two  houses  where  they  receive  of  an  evening,  and 
where,  when  you  come  again,  you  will  be  always  welcome." 

Since  I  had  gone  so  far,  I  resolved  to  abide  by  all  his 
arrangements,  and  suffer  him  to  dispose  of  my  time  just  as 
he  pleased. 


376  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

Our  dinner  was  excellent.  The  Count  had  bestowed  pains 
in  ordering  it,  and  all  was  of  that  perfection  in  cookery  for 
which  Hamburg  was,  and  is,  so  justly  famed.  Nor  was  the 
wine  inferior  to  the  rest  of  the  entertainment.  Of  this  the 
Count  appeared  to  be  a  connoisseur,  and  pressed  me  to  taste 
a  dozen  different  kinds,  the  very  names  of  which  were 
unknown  to  me.  His  conversation,  too,  was  so  amusing, 
so  full  of  strange  incidents  and  adventures,  such  curious 
anecdotes,  such  shrewd  remarks,  that  I  was  by  no  means 
impatient  to  rise  from  table. 

"  I  see,"  said  he,  at  last,  "  we  are  too  late  for  the  opera. 
Hanserlist's  reception  is  also  nearly  over  by  this  time.  Shall 
we  just  drop  in,  then,  at  Madame  von  Geysiger's?  It  is 
the  latest  house  here,  and  every  one  goes  there  to  finish  the 
evening." 

"They  are  all  strangers  to  me,"  I  replied,  "and  I  am 
entirely  under  your  orders." 

"  Then  Madame  von  Geysiger's  be  it,"  said  he,  rising. 

As  we  went  along,  he  told  me  that  the  lady  to  whose 
house  we  were  going  had  been,  some  thirty-five  or  forty 
years  ago,  the  great  prima  donna  of  Europe.  She  was  also 
the  most  celebrated  beauty  of  her  time ;  and  by  these  com- 
bined attractions  had  so  captivated  a  rich  merchant  of 
Hamburg  that  he  married  her,  bequeathing  to  her  on  his 
death-bed  the  largest  fortune  of  that  wealthy  city. 

"  They  count  it  by  millions  and  tens  of  millions,"  said  he ; 
"but  what  matter  to  us?  —  at  least  to  me?  —  for  I  have 
been  refused  by  her  some  half-dozen  times ;  and  indeed  now 
am  under  the  heaviest  recognizance  never  to  repeat  my  pro- 
posal.    If  you,  however,  should  like  to  adventure  —  " 

"Oh,  excuse  me,"  said  I,  laughing.  "Not  even  all  the 
marcobrunner  and  champagne  I  have  been  drinking  could 
give  hardihood  for  such  a  piece  of  impudence." 

"  Why  not?  "  cried  he.  "  You  are  young,  good-looking, 
and  of  a  fashionable  exterior.  You  are  a  stranger,  besides, 
—  and  that  is  a  great  point ;  for  she  is  well  weary  of  Hamburg 
and  Hamburgers." 

I  stopped  him  at  once  by  saying  that  I  was  by  far  too 
conscious  of  the  indignity  attached  to  my  career  to  aspire 
to  the  eminence  he  spoke  of. 


SECRET  SERVICE.  377 

"  And  too  proud  to  marry  an  old  woman  for  her  money! 
Can't  you  add  that?"  said  he,  laughing.  "Well,  there  we 
differ.  I  am  neither  ashamed  of  the  '  espionage,'  nor  should 
I  be  averse  to  the  marriage.  To  say  truth,  my  clear  Gervois, 
when  I  have  dined  in  a  splendid  salon  hung  round  with  the 
best  pieces  of  Cuyp,  Wouvermans,  and  Jansens ;  when  I 
have  seen  the  dessert  set  forth  in  a  golden  service,  of  which 
the  great  Schnyders  over  the  fireplace  was  but  a  faint  copy ; 
when  I  have  supped  my  Mocha  out  of  a  Sevres  cup  worth 
more  than  its  full  of  gold  louis,  and  rested  myself  on  the 
fairest  tapestries  of  France,  with  every  sense  entranced  by 
luxury, — I  do  find  it  excessively  hard  to  throw  my  mantle 
over  my  shoulders,  and  trudge  home  through  the  rain  and 
mud  to  resume  the  sorry  existence  that  for  an  hour  I  had 
abandoned." 

"  There  lies  the  whole  question,"  said  I;  "  since,  for  my 
part,  I  could  not  throw  off  the  identity,  even  under  such 
captivations  as  you  speak  of." 

He  looked  at  me  very  fixedly  as  I  said  this,  —  so  fixedty, 
indeed,  that  he  seemed  to  feel  some  apology  necessary 
for  it. 

"  Forgive  me,"  cried  he;  "  but  I  could  not  help  staring 
at  the  prodigy  of  a  man  content  to  be  himself." 

"  I  have  not  said  that,"  replied  I.  "I  only  said  I  was 
incapable  of  feeling  myself  to  be  any  other." 

"  You  plume  yourself  upon  your  birth  then,  doubtless," 
added  he ;  "  and  so  should  I,  if  I  knew  how  to  get  rid  of  my 
father.  What  were  your  people :  you  said  they  were  not 
French  ?  " 

Had  the  question  been  put  to  me  half  an  hour  before,  as 
we  sat  over  our  wine,  I  have  little  doubt  that,  in  the  expan 
siveness  of  such  a  situation,  I  should  have  told  him  all  that  I 
knew  or  suspected  of  my  family.  The  season  of  confidence, 
however,  had  passed.  We  were  walking  along  a  crowded 
thoroughfare ;  our  talk  was  desultory,  as  the  objects  about 
were  various ;  and  so  I  coined  some  history  of  my  family  for 
the  occasion,  ascribing  my  birth  to  a  very  humble  source, 
and  my  rank  as  one  of  the  meanest. 

"Your  father  was,  however,  English,"  said  he;  "so 
much  you  know?" 


378  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  that  point  there  is  uo  doubt  about." 

"Is  he  alive?  " 

"  No,  he  is  dead  a  great  many  years  back." 

"How  did  he  die,  or  where?  Excuse  these  questions, 
which  I  have  only  to  say  are  not  out  of  idle  importunity." 

I  own  that  I  did  not  feel  easy  under  this  cross-examination. 
It  might  mean  more  than  I  liked  to  avow  even  to  myself. 
At  all  events,  I  resolved,  whatever  his  object,  to  evade  it ; 
and  at  once  gave  him  some  absurd  narrative  of  my  father 
having  served  in  the  war  of  the  Low  Countries,  where  he 
married  a  Frenchwoman  or  a  Fleming  ;  that  he  died,  of  some 
fever  of  the  country,  at  a  small  fishing  town  on  the  Dutch 
coast,  leaving  me  an  orphan,  since  my  mother  survived  him 
but  a  few  months. 

"All  this  is  excellent,"  cried  he,  enthusiastically.  "It 
could  not  be  better  by  any  possibility.  Forgive  me,  Ger- 
vois,  till  I  can  explain  my  meaning  to  you  more  fully ;  but 
what  you  have  just  told  me  has  filled  my  heart  with  delight. 
You  '11  see  how  Madame  von  Geysiger  will  receive  you  when 
she  hears  this." 

I  started  back  with  astonishment.  Could  it  possibly  be 
the  case  that  my  stupid  story  might  chime  in  with  the  facts 
of  some  real  history ;  and  should  I  thus  be  involved  in  the 
web  of  some  tangled  incidents  in  which  I  had  rightfully 
no  share?  There  was  shame  and  falsehood  both  in  such  a 
situation,  and  I  shrank  from  it  with  disgust. 

"I  will  not  go  to  this  house,  Count,"  said  I,  resolutely. 
"I  foresee  that  somehow  or  other  an  interest  would  attach 
to  me  to  which  I  can  lay  no  claim.  Neither  Madame  von 
Geysiger,  nor  any  belonging  to  her,  could  have  known  my 
parents.     Their  walk  in  life  was  of  the  very  humblest." 

"  I  have  not  said  she  did,  my  dear  friend,"  said  he,  sooth- 
ingly, "  nor  is  it  exactly  generous  to  be  so  suspectful  of 
one  whose  only  feeling  towards  you  is  that  of  kindness  and 
good  will.  Once  for  all,  if  you  desire  it,  I  will  allude  no 
further  to  this  subject  here  or  elsewhere." 

"  On  that  condition  I  will  accompany  you,"  said  I. 

He  pressed  my  hand  as  if  in  recognition  of  the  compact, 
and  we  entered  the  house. 

There  were  not  above  half-a-dozen  carriages  at  the  door  \ 


SECRET  SERVICE.  379 

but  still  I  could  perceive,  as  we  passed  through  the  salons, 
that  a  very  numerous  company  was  assembled.  It  was  ex- 
actly what  the  Count  said,  —  a  rendezvous  where  all  came  to 
wind  up  the  evening ;  and  here  were  some  in  all  the  blaze 
of  diamonds,  and  in  the  splendor  of  full  dress ;  others  less 
magnificently  attired,  and  some  again  in  their  walking  cos- 
tume. The  suite  of  rooms  then  open  were  not  the  state 
ones  in  use  for  great  occasions,  but  a  ground  floor,  opening 
by  several  doors  upon  a  handsome  pleasure  ground,  that 
blending  of  copse  and  "  bosquet,"  of  terrace  and  shady 
alley,  which  foreigners  call  an  English  garden. 

Here  and  there  through  this,  many  of  the  company  lounged 
and  loitered,  enjoying  the  cool  of  a  summer  night  in  prefer- 
ence to  the  heated  and  crowded  rooms  within.  We  were  not 
long  in  search  of  our  hostess  when  she  came  towards  us,  —  a 
large,  full,  but  still  handsome  person,  magnificently  attired, 
and  with  somewhat  of  what  I,  at  least,  fancied  the  assured 
air  and  bearing  of  the  stage. 

To  the  Count  she  was  most  cordial ;  while  to  me  her  man- 
ner was  courteous  in  the  extreme.  She  regretted  that  we 
had  not  come  earlier,  and  mentioned  the  names  of  some  one 
or  two  distinguished  visitors  who  had  just  left.  After  some 
little  conversation  on  commonplace  matters,  I  joined  a  party 
at  ombre,  a  game  of  which  I  was  fond,  and  where,  fortu- 
nately, I  found  the  players  satisfied  to  contend  for  stakes 
humble  enough  for  my  means.  The  Count  had,  meanwhile, 
given  his  arm  to  the  hostess,  and  was  making  a  tour  of  the 
company.  He  appeared  to  have  acquaintance  with  every 
one.  Indeed,  with  most  it  was  an  easy  intimacy;  and  all 
saluted  him  as  one  they  were  glad  to  welcome.  I  watched 
him  with  considerable  curiosity,  for  I  own  the  man  was  a 
puzzle  to  me.  At  times  I  half  persuaded  myself  that  he  was 
something  very  much  above  the  condition  he  assumed  ;  and 
at  other  moments  I  suspected  him  to  be  below  even  that. 
If  he  be  an  impostor,  thought  I,  assuredly  there  are  more 
dupes  than  me,  and  in  this  very  room  too.  My  game  soon 
absorbed  my  attention,  and  I  ceased  to  think  of  or  look 
after  him.  I  know  not  how  long  this  may  have  lasted  ;  but 
I  remember,  when  lifting  my  head  from  my  cards,  I  saw 
straight  in  front  of  me  Madame  von  Geysiger  steadily  con- 


380  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

templating  me  through  her  glass,  and  standing,  to  do  so,  in 
an  attitude  that  implied  profound  scrutiny.  The  moment  she 
caught  my  eye  she  dropped  her  "  lorgnette,"  and  hurried 
away,  in  what  was  clear  to  see  was  an  air  of  confusion. 

It  immediately  struck  me  that  the  Count  had  broken 
faith  with  me,  and,  whatever  his  secret  scheme,  had  re- 
vealed it  to  the  lady ;  and,  indignant  at  the  treachery,  I 
would  have  risen  at  once  from  the  table  if  I  could ;  as  it 
was,  I  took  the  very  first  opportunity  that  presented  itself, 
and,  by  feigning  the  fatigue  of  a  long  journey,  I  made  my 
excuses  and  withdrew. 

My  next  care  was  to  leave  the  house  without  attracting 
any  notice ;  and  so  I  mingled  with  the  crowd,  and  held  on 
my  way  towards  the  room  by  which  we  had  entered.  The 
dense  throng  interrupted  my  progress  ;  and  in  order  to  make 
my  escape  more  rapidly,  1  passed  out  into  the  garden,  in- 
tending to  enter  the  house  again  by  some  door  lower  down. 
To  do  so  more  secretly,  I  moved  into  one  of  the  dark  alleys, 
which,  after  following  some  time,  brought  me  out  upon  a 
little  open  space,  with  a  small  marble  fountain  spouting  its 
tiny  jet  in  the  midst  of  a  clear  and  starlit  pond.  Though 
so  near  to  the  house,  the  spot  was  still  and  noiseless,  for 
the  thick  copse  on  every  side  effectually  excluded  sound. 
The  calming  influence  of  the  silence  and  the  delicious  fresh- 
ness of  the  night  air  induced  me  to  linger  here  for  a  while ; 
and  even  longer,  too,  I  should  have  stayed,  had  not  the 
sound  of  voices  warned  me  that  some  persons  were  ap- 
proaching. That  they  might  pass  without  observing  me,  I 
stepped  hastily  into  the  bosquet,  and  concealed  myself  in 
the  thick  and  leafy  cover.  My  misery  and  terror  may  be 
imagined  when  I  heard  my  own  name  uttered,  and  then  per- 
ceived that  it  was  the  Count  and  Madame  von  Geysiger, 
who  now  stood  within  a  few  feet  of  where  I  was,  in  deep 
and  secret  conference. 

Not  all  my  training  in  my  odious  mode  of  life  had  recon- 
ciled me  to  the  part  of  an  eavesdropper.  Yet  what  could 
I  do?  Should  I  discover  myself,  no  explanation  could 
possibly  account  for  my  situation,  nor  would  any  assur- 
ances on  my  part  have  satisfied  them  of  my  ignorance.  I 
will  not  presume  to  say  that  if  these  were  my  first  thoughts, 


SECRET  SERVICE.  381 

my  second,  with  some  tinge  of  sophistry,  suggested  that 
if  treachery  were  intended  me,  it  would  be  unpardonable 
in  me  to  neglect  the  means  of  defeating  it.  There  is  as- 
suredly a  stronger  impulse  in  curiosity,  united  with  fear, 
than  exists  in  most  other  incentives ;  for,  reason  how  I 
would,  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  resist  the  temptation 
thus  presented  to  me. 

"You  mistake  him,  Auatole,"  said  the  lady;  "believe 
me,  you  mistake  him.  I  have  watched  his  countenance, 
and  read  it  carefully  as  he  sat  at  cards,  and  my  interpre- 
tation of  him  is,  that  he  would  never  consent." 

"  The  greater  fool  he,  then,"  replied  the  other.  "  Take 
my  word  for  it,  his  splendid  abilities  will  not  stand  him  in 
such  stead  as  his  mongrel  parentage  and  mongrel  tongue. 
But  I  do  not,  cannot,  agree  with  you.  It  is  just  possible 
that  so  long  as  the  world  goes  smoothly  with  him,  and  no 
immediate  pressure  of  any  kind  exists,  that  he  might  refuse. 
But  why  need  that  continue?  If  fortune  will  deal  him 
bad  cards,  don't  you  think  we  might  contrive  to  shuttle 
the  pack  ourselves  ?  " 

She  muttered  something  I  could  not  hear,  and  he  quickly 
rejoined, — 

"Even  for  that  I  am  not  unprepared;  no,  no.  Be  as- 
sured of  one  thing,  he  may  decline,  but  will  not  defy  us." 

"I  know  where  your  confidence  is,  Count,"  said  she; 
"  but  that  rapier  of  yours  has  got  you  into  more  trouble 
than  it  has  ever  worked  you  good." 

"  Parbleu,  I  have  no  reason  to  be  ungrateful  to  it!" 
replied  he,  laughing;  "and,  perhaps,  with  all  its  rust,  it 
may  do  some  service  yet." 

"At  all  events,"  said  she,  "bethink  you  well  of  the 
consequences  before  you  admit  him  to  any  confidence. 
Remember  that  when  once  he  is  intrusted  with  our  plan, 
he  is  the  master  of  our  secret,  and  we  are  without  a  remedy. 
—  Pshaw !  "  said  she,  scornfully,  as  if  in  reply  to  some 
gesture  on  his  part;  "  that  remedy  may  be  applied  once  too 
often." 

My  heart  beat  fast  and  full  as  I  heard  these  words, 
whose  significance  there  could  not  be  a  doubt  of,  as  the 
same   curiosity  to   discover   some  clew   to   the  schena     I 


382  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

which  I  was  to  be  snared  was  superior  to  all  my  fears,  and 
I  half  resolved,  at  whatever  risk  it  might  cost,  to  suffer 
myself  to  be  drawn  into  the  intrigue.  They  now  moved  on, 
and  though  I  could  hear  their  voices  stop  in  low  discourse, 
I  could  not  detect  the  words  they  uttered.  It  was  evident 
that  some  proposition  was  to  be  made  to  me,  the  rejection 
of  which  on  my  part  might  involve  me  in  the  greatest  peril. 
With  what  straining  ingenuity  did  I  endeavor  to  divine  what 
this  might  be !  In  all  likelihood,  it  referred  to  some  political 
intrigue,  for  which  my  character  as  a  "secret  agent"  might 
seem  to  adapt  me.  Yet  some  of  the  expressions  they  had 
let  drop  by  no  means  favored  this  interpretation.  What 
could  my  "mongrel  nationality,"  as  the  Count  styled  it, 
avail  me  in  such  a  conjuncture? 

As  these  thoughts  were  chasing  each  other  through  my 
mind,  I  was  threading  my  way  through  the  salons,  and  at 
length,  to  my  sincere  satisfaction,  found  myself  in  the  open 
street.  By  the  time  I  reached  the  hotel  I  had  made  up  my 
mind  to  start  at  once  on  my  mission,  without  waiting  for  the 
Count's  arrival.  I  hastily  scratched  a  few  lines  of  common- 
place acknowledgment  for  his  attentions  to  me,  and  half, 
significantly  adding  that  I  hoped  to  express  them  personally 
when  we  met  again,  wished  him  a  "  good  journey,"  and  then 
set  out  on  my  own. 

During  the  rest  of  that  night,  and,  indeed,  for  a  great 
part  of  the  following  day,  I  did  not  feel  satisfied  with  myself 
for  what  I  had  done.  It  was,  indeed,  an  inglorious  mode 
of  escaping  from  a  difficulty,  and  argued  more  of  fear  than 
resolution.  As  time  wore  on,  however,  I  reasoned  myself 
into  the  notion  that  against  secret  treachery,  courage  and 
firmness  avail  little,  and  if  a  well-planned  scheme  was  about 
to  environ  me,  I  had  done  the  wisest  thing  in  the  emergency. 

I  suppose  the  experience  of  others  will  bear  me  out  in 
saying  that  the  actual  positive  ills  of  life  are  more  easily 
endured  than  the  vague  and  shadowy  dangers  which  seem 
to  hover  over  the  future,  and  darken  the  "road  before  us. 
The  calamities  that  lie  in  ambush  for  us  are  ever  present  to 
our  thoughts.  The  hour  of  our  misfortune  may  be  to-day, 
to-morrow,  or  the  day  after.  Every  chance  incident  of 
untoward  aspect  may  herald  the  bad  tidings,  and  we  live  in 


SECRET  SERVICE.  383 

unceasing  expectancy  of  evil.  Do  what  I  would,  a  dreary 
and  despondent  gloom  now  settled  on  me ;  I  felt  as  if  I 
were  predestined  to  some  grievous  misfortune,  against 
which  I  was  utterly  powerless,  and  the  hour  of  which  I 
could  neither  hasten  nor  retard.  How  bitterly  I  reproached 
myself  for  making  an  acquaintance  with  the  Count!  For 
years  I  had  lived  a  life  of  solitary  seclusion,  avoiding  even 
the  commonest  forms  of  acquaintanceship.  The  shame  my 
calling  inspired  me  with  made  me  reluctant  to  know  those 
who,  perhaps,  when  they  discovered  me  to  be  the  spy, 
would  have  regarded  me  with  aversion !  Not  that  in  reality 
the  odious  epithet  could,  with  any  fairness,  be  applied  to 
me.  My  "secret  agency"  had  not  risen  beyond  the  mere 
functions  of  a  messenger ;  and  though  at  times  I  was  in- 
trusted with  verbal  communications,  they  were  delivered 
in  confidence  of  my  trustworthiness,  and  not  imparted  in 
any  reliance  on  my  skill  to  improve  them ;  but  I  cannot 
stoop  to  apologize  for  a  condition  to  which  bitter  necessity 
reduced  me,  and  which  I  clung  to  as  offering  the  last  rem- 
nant of  hope  to  find  out  those  who,  of  all  the  world,  were 
the  only  ones  who  bore  me  affection. 

I  have  already  said  that  this  hope  was  now  fast  dying 
out ;  repeated  disappointment  had  all  but  extinguished  it ; 
and  it  was  only  when  the  name  "  Reichenau  "  had  again 
stirred  its  almost  cold  embers  that  I  determined  on  this 
last  chance  ere  I  abandoned  my  career  forever. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

"  DISCOVERIES." 

Only  ye  who  have  felt  what  it  is  after  long  years  of 
absence,  after  buffeting  with  the  wild  waves  of  life,  and 
learning  by  heart  that  bitter  lesson  they  call  the  world,  to 
come  back  to  what  was  once  a  home,  can  form  some  notion 
of  the  mingled  emotions  of  joy  and  sorrow  with  which  I 
drew  near  Reichenau. 

As  the  road  grew  gradually  more  steep,  and  the  mountain 
gorge  became  narrower  and  wilder,  I  found  myself  at  each 
moment  in  sight  of  some  well-remembered  object.  Now 
it  was  a  well  beside  which  I  had  often  rested ;  now  a  cross 
or  a  shrine  beneath  which  I  had  knelt.  Here  was  a  rockj' 
eminence  I  had  climbed,  to  gain  a  wider  view  of  the  winding 
valley  before  me ;  here  was  a  giant  oak  under  which  I  had 
sheltered  from  a  storm.  Every  turn  of  the  way  brought  up 
some  scene,  some  incident,  or  some  train  of  long-forgotten 
thought  of  that  time  when,  as  a  boy,  I  wandered  all  alone, 
weaving  fancies  of  the  world,  and  making  myself  the  hero 
of  a  hundred  stories.  Sad  and  sorrowful  as  it  is  to  reckon 
scores  with  our  hopes  and  mark  how  little  life  has  borne  ou'c 
the  promises  of  our  youth,  yet  I  cannot  help  thinking  that 
our  grief  is  nobly  recompensed  by  the  very  memory  of  that 
time,  that  glorious  time,  when,  shadowed  by  no  scepticism, 
nor  darkened  by  any  distrust,  we  were  happy  and  hopeful 
and  confiding.  It  is  not  alone  that  we  recur  to  those 
memories  with  pleasure,  but  we  are  actually  better  for 
the  doing  so.  They  tell  of  a  time  when  our  hearts  were 
yet  uncorrupted,  our  ambitions  were  noble,  and  our  aspira- 
tions generous.  They  remind  us  of  a  period  when  the 
episodes  of  life  rarely  outlived  the  day,  and  our  griefs 
never  endured  through   half  the  night.     And   so  comes  it 


"  DISCOVERIES."  385 

that  when,  in  after  years,  we  are  tired  and  careworn  by  the 
world,  it  is  not  to  our  experience  of  mankind  we  look  for 
support  and  comfort,  but  to  the  time  when,  in  happy  inno- 
cence, we  wandered  all  alone,  peopling  space  with  images 
of  kindness  and  goodness,  and  making  for  ourselves  an 
ideal  world,  so  much  better  than  the  real  one ! 

It  was  sunset.  The  "  Angelus  "  was  ringing  as  I  entered 
Reichenau,  and  the  postilion  —  a  mountaineer  —  reverently 
descended  from  the  saddle,  and  knelt  upon  the  roadside  in 
silent  prayer.  How  long  was  it  since  I  had  witnessed  even 
so  much  of  devotion  !  The  world  in  which  I  had  mixed  had 
its  occupations  of  intrigue  and  plot,  its  schemes  of  greatness 
and  wealth  and  power,  but  no  space  for  thoughts  like  those 
of  this  poor  peasant.  Alas  !  and  was  I  not  myself  corrupted 
by  their  contact?  That  penitent  attitude  —  that  prayerful 
look  —  those  clasped  hands  —  were  now  all  objects  of  aston- 
ishment to  me,  when  once  I  had  deemed  them  the  fit  accom- 
paniment of  the  hour.  Too  truly  was  I  changed  from  what 
I  had  been ! 

Night  was  falling  fast  as  we  reached  the  bridge,  and  a 
light  twinkled  in  the  little  window  which  had  once  been  the 
Herr  Robert's.  A  little  further  on,  I  saw  the  chateau  and 
the  terrace ;  then  came  the  tower  of  the  old  church ;  and  as 
we  turned  into  the  Platz,  I  beheld  the  arched  gateway,  and 
the  small  diamond-paned  window  of  the  little  inn.  How 
sadly  did  they  all  remind  me  of  my  solitai'y  existence !  for 
here,  in  the  midst  of  every  object  of  my  childish  memory, 
was  I,  friendless  and  alone.  A  little  crowd  gathered  around 
the  carriage  as  I  got  out.  The  staring  rustics  little  thought 
that  he  who  then  descended  had  been,  perhaps,  their  play- 
fellow and  companion.  The  postilion  had  styled  me  an 
"  Excellency,"  and  the  landlord  received  me  with  all  his 
deference. 

I  pretended  that  I  should  stay  a  day  or  two,  in  expecta- 
tion of  a  friend's  arrival,  and  ordered  the  best  rooms  in  the 
house;  and,  as  was  not  unusual  in  those  days,  begged  the 
favor  of  my  host's  company  at  supper.  The  invitation  was 
gladly  accepted,  and  Herr  Kirschler  entertained  me  till  past 
midnight  with  an  account  of  Reichenau  and  its  inhabitants. 
I  affected  to  know  the  village  as  a  mere  traveller  who  had 

25 


386  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

passed  through  it  some  years  back,  on  my  way  to  Italy ;  and 
the  host,  with  true  innkeeper  memory,  remembered  me  per- 
fectly. I  was  fatter,  or  thinner,  or  browner,  or  somewhat 
paler  than  before,  but  in  other  respects  little  changed.  So, 
at  least,  he  told  me,  and  I  accepted  the  description.  I  re- 
minded him  that  when  I  last  came  through,  the  chateau  had 
been  a  school :  was  it  so  still  ? 

"Yes;  and  Monsieur  Jost  was  still  the  master,  although 
now  very  old  and  infirm,  and,  of  course,  little  able  to  direct 
it.  In  fact,  he  devoted  his  time  far  more  to  beetles  and 
butterflies  than  to  the  boys ;  and  so  most  of  the  scholars  had 
left  him,  and  the  school  was  rapidly  declining." 

I  turned  the  conversation  on  Reichenau  itself,  and  asked 
in  a  careless  tone  if  strangers  ever  sought  it  as  a  residence. 
He  shook  his  head  sorrowfully,  and  said  rarely,  if  ever. 

"  There  had,"  he  added,  "  been  one  or  two  families  who 
had  fled  thither  on  the  outbreak  of  the  French  Revolution, 
but  they  had  long  since  taken  their  departure.  One  of 
them,"  added  he,  rising,  and  opening  the  window,  "  one  of 
them  lived  yonder,  where  your  Excellency  sees  that  old 
tower ;  and  mean  as  it  looks  without,  I  can  assure  you  it  is 
still  poorer  within ;  and  yet  they  were  noble,  —  at  least,  so  it 
was  said  here." 

"  You  cannot  remember  the  name?  "  said  I. 

"  No ;   but  it  is  written  in  one  of  my  old  ledgers." 

"Will  you  do  me  the  kindness  to  look  for  it?"  said  I, 
"  as  these  things  have  a  deep  interest  for  me,  since  I  have 
kuown  so  many  of  the  exiled  families." 

It  was  in  no  spirit  of  curiosity  that  I  made  this  request ; 
I  needed  nothing  to  aid  me.  There  stood  the  old  tower 
which  contained  my  play-room ;  there,  the  little  window  at 
which  I  have  sat,  silent  and  alone,  whole  nights  long.  It 
was  to  conceal  my  emotion  that  I  wished  him  away ;  and 
scarcely  had  he  left  the  room,  when  I  hid  my  face  within  my 
hands  and  sobbed  aloud.  The  search  occupied  him  some 
time ;  and  when  he  returned,  I  had  recovered  myself  suffi- 
ciently to  escape  his  notice. 

"  Well,  have  you  found  it?"  said  I. 

"Yes,  your  Excellency,  here  it  is,  —  in  the  lady's  own 
writing  too." 


"  DISCOVERIES."  387 

The  words  were  simply  the  routine  entry  of  travellers  in 
the  "police-sheet"  of  the  hotel,  stating  that  Madame  la 
Comtesse  de  Gabriac,  accompanied  by  son  secretaire,  Mon- 
sieur Raper,  had  passed  two  days  there,  and  then  departed 
for .     The  word  had  been  written,  and  then  blotted  out. 

"  For  where?"  asked  I. 

"  That  is  the  strangest  point  of  all,"  said  he ;  "  for  after 
having  taken  the  places  for  Milan,  and  their  passports  all 
vised  for  that  city,  when  day  broke  they  were  not  to  be  found. 
Some  peasants,  who  came  to  market  that  day,  thought 
they  had  seen  them  on  the  mountains  taking  the  path  to 
Feldkirch ;  but  wherever  they  went,  they  were  never  heard 
of  more." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  they  had  to  set  out  on  foot?  " 

"  Parbleu  !  your  Excellency;  the  route  they  took  can  be 
travelled  in  no  other  fashion." 

"  But  their  baggage,  their  effects?" 

"  They  were  of  the  lightest,  I  assure  you,"  said  he,  laugh- 
ing. "  Madame  la  Comtesse  carried  hers  in  a  kerchief,  and 
Monsieur  le  Secretaire  had  a  common  soldier's  knapsack, 
and  a  small  bundle  in  his  hand,  when  he  came  here." 

I  suppose  the  expression  of  my  face  at  the  ribald  tone  of 
this  remark  must  have  intimated  what  I  felt,  but  tried  to 
conceal,  since  he  speedily  corrected  himself,  and  said,  in  a 
voice  of  apology,  — 

"It  is  not,  assuredly,  at  their  poverty  I  would  sneer,  your 
Excellency ;  but  for  persons  of  their  condition  this  was  not 
the  suitable  way  to  travel." 

"  Did  they  leave  no  friends  behind  them  who  might  give 
a  clew  to  their  mysterious  departure  ?  " 

"Friends!  No,  your  Excellency,  they  were  too  proud 
and  too  highly  born  for  us  of  Reichenau,  —  at  least,  the 
Comtesse  was ;  as  for  Monsieur  Raper,  poor  fellow,  he 
was  a  teacher  at  Monsieur  Jost's  yonder,  and  rarely  seen 
amongst  us." 

"  And  how  do  }-ou  explain  it?  —  I  mean,  what  explanation 
was  the  common  one  in  vogue  in  the  village?" 

"  As  for  that,  there  were  all  manner  of  rumors.  Some 
said  they  had  fled  from  their  debts,  which  was  false ;  for 
they  had  sold  the  little  they  possessed,  and  came  to  pass  the 


388  SIR   JASPER   CAREW. 

two  last  clays  here  while  paying  whatever  they  owed  in  the 
village.  Some  thought  that  they  had  been  hiding  from 
justice,  and  that  their  refuge  had  been  at  last  discovered ; 
and  some,  among  whom  I  confess  myself  one,  think  that  it 
was  with  reference  to  the  Count's  affairs  that  they  had  taken 
to  flight." 

"  How  do  you  mean?  "  asked  I. 

"  Oh,  De  Gabriac  was  a  '  bad  subject,'  and,  if  report  speak 
truly,  was  implicated  in  many  crimes.  One  thing  is  certain  : 
before  they  had  been  gone  a  week,  the  gensdarmes  were 
here  in  search  of  him  ;  they  ransacked  the  lodging  for  some 
clew  to  his  hiding-place,  and  searched  the  post  for  letters  to 
or  from  him." 

"  And  so  you  think  that  it  was  probably  to  avoid  him  that 
she  fled?"  said  I,  hazarding  a  question,  to  obtain  a  fuller 
admission  than  he  had  made. 

"That  is  precisely  my  opinion;  and  when  I  tell  your 
Excellency  that  it  was  on  receiving  a  letter  from  Paris,  most 
probably  from  him,  that  she  hastily  sold  off  everything,  you 
will  possibly  be  of  my  mind  also." 

"  And  Gabriac,  did  he  ever  appear  here  again?  " 

' '  Some  say  he  did ;  but  it  is  doubtful.  One  thing,  how- 
ever, is  certain :  there  was  a  teacher  here  in  Monsieur  Jost's 
academy,  a  certain  Monsieur  Augustin,  who  gave  lessons  in 
mathematics,  and  the  secret  police  gave  him  some  tidings 
that  made  him  also  leave  this;  and  the  report  is,  that 
Gabriac  was  somehow  the  cause  of  this.  Nobody  ever 
thought  ill  of  Augustin,  and  it  is  hard  to  believe  he  was 
Gabriac's  accomplice." 

I  could  perceive,  from  this  reply  of  the  host,  that  he  was 
"  all  abroad  "  as  to  any  real  knowledge  of  events,  and  had 
only  got  some  faint  glimmerings  of  the  truth.  I  now  suf- 
fered him  to  run  on  about  people  and  occurrences  of  which 
I  knew  nothing,  so  as  to  divert  him  from  any  attention  to 
myself,  and  then  betook  me  to  my  bed  with  an  anxious 
mind  and  a  wearied  one. 

I  was  up  early  the  next  morning,  and  hastened  to  the 
chateau,  where  I  found  my  old  master  already  up,  and  walk- 
ing in  the  garden.  He  was,  indeed,  much  changed.  Time 
had  told  heavily  on  him  too,  and  he  seemed  far  more  feeble 


"  DISCOVERIES."  389 

than  I  expected  to  find  him.  The  letter  with  which  I  was 
charged  for  him  invited  him  to  make  me  any  confidential 
communication  he  desired  to  impart,  and  to  regard  me  as 
trustworthy  in  all  respects.  He  read  it  over,  I  should  think, 
several  times ;  for  he  sat  down  on  a  bench,  and  seemed  to 
study  it  profoundly. 

"  You  shall  have  the  papers,"  said  he  at  length;  "  but  I 
doubt  that  they  will  be  found  of  use  now.  Dumourier's 
influence  is  at  an  end  with  his  old  adherents.  The  party  is 
broken  up ;  and,  so  far  as  human  foresight  can  go,  the  cause 
is  lost." 

"  I  ought  to  tell  you,  Monsieur  Jost,"  then  broke  I  in, 
"  that  although  you  are  speaking  to  one  who  will  not  abuse 
your  confidence,  that  it  is  also  one  who  knows  nothing  of 
the  plan  you  speak  of." 

He  appeared  to  reflect  some  minutes  over  my  words,  and 
then  said,  — 

"  These  are  matters,  however,  not  for  my  judgment.  If 
the  Prince  think  well  of  the  scheme,  it  is  enough." 

I  saw  that  this  was  said  unconsciously  and  to  himself,  and 
so  I  made  no  remark  on  it. 

"  At  all  events,  Monsieur  Gervois,"  continued  he,  "  let 
them  not  build  upon  many  whose  names  are  here.  AVe  saw 
what  Dejaunay  became  t'other  day.  Jussard  is  little  better 
than  a  spy  for  the  First  Consul ;  and  as  for  Gabriac,  to 
whom  we  all  trusted,  he  would  have  been  even  worse  than  a 
spy,  if  his  villany  had  succeeded. " 

"  You  knew  him,  then,  sir?  "  asked  I. 

"  Knew  him  !  Parbleu  !  I  did  know  him  ;  and  better,  too, 
than  most  did !  I  always  said  he  would  play  the  traitor,  — 
not  to  one,  but  to  every  cause.  He  was  false  to  all,  sir," 
said  he,  with  increasing  bitterness,  —  "to  his  King  ;  to  that 
King's  enemies  ;  to  the  Convention  ;  to  the  '  Emigration ; ' 
to  the  nobles ;  to  the  people :  false  everywhere  and  to 
every  one !  False  to  her  who  bore  his  name,  and  to  her 
whom  he  led  away  to  ruin,  — that  poor  girl,  whose  father's 
chivalrous  loyalty  alone  might  have  protected  her —  How 
do  you  fall  him?  —  the  Marquis  de  Bresinart?  No,  not  him  ; 
I  mean  that  old  loyalist  leader  who  lived  near  Valence." 

"Not  the  Marquis  de  Nipernois?"  said  I,  in  trembling 
eagerness. 


390  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

"The  same;  the  Marquis  de  Nipernois,  to  whose  daugh- 
ter he  was  once  betrothed,  and  whose  fair  fame  and  name 
he  has  tarnished  forever !  " 

"You  do  not  mean  that  Gabriac  was  the  seducer  of 
Madame  de  Bertin?"    said  I. 

4 '  The  world  knows  it  as  well  as  I  do ;  and  although  one 
alone  ever  dared  to  deny  it,  and  branded  the  tale  with  the 
epithet  of  base  scandal,  she  came  at  last  to  see  its  truth ; 
and  her  broken  heart  was  the  last  of  his  triumphs  ! " 

"You  speak  of  the  Countess,  —  his  wife?" 

He  grasped  my  hand  within  one  of  his  own,  and  pressed 
the  other  across  his  eyes,  unable  to  speak,  through  emotion. 
Nor  were  my  feelings  less  moved.  What  a  terrible  reve- 
lation was  this !  Misfortune  upon  misfortune,  and  De 
Gabriac  the  cause  of  all ! 

For  a  moment  I  thought  of  declaring  myself  to  be  his  old 
pupil,  and  the  child  who  had  called  that  dear  Comtesse 
"mother;"  but  the  morbid  shame  with  which  I  remem- 
bered what  I  then  was,  stopped  me,  and  I  was  silent. 

"You  know,  of  course,  whither  she  went  from  this,  and 
what  became  of  her?"    asked  I,  anxiously. 

"Yes.  I  had  two  letters  from  her, — at  long  intervals, 
though ;  the  last,  when  about  to  sail  for  Halifax  — " 

"  For  Halifax  !  —  gone  to  America?  " 

"  Even  so.  She  said  that  the  Old  World  had  been  long 
unkind  to  her,  and  that  she  would  try  the  New !  and  then  as 
their  only  friend  in  Hamburg  was  dead  —  " 

"They  were  at  Hamburg!  —  you  did  not  say  that?" 
said  I. 

"Yes,  to  be  sure.  Monsieur  Eaper,  who  was  a  worthy, 
good  man,  and  a  smart  scholar  besides,  had  obtained  the 
place  of  correspondence  clerk  in  a  rich  mercantile  house  in 
that  city,  where  he  lived  with  credit,  till  the  death  of  the 
head  of  the  firm.  After  that,  I  believe  the  house  ceased 
business,  or  broke  up.  At  all  events,  Raper  was  thrown 
on  the  world  again,  and  resolved  to  emigrate.  I  suppose 
if  Monsieur  Geysiger  had  lived  —  " 

"Geysiger! — is  that  the  name  you  said?" 

"Ay;  Adam  Geysiger,  —  the  great  house  of  Geysiger, 
Mersman,  and  Dorth,  of  Hamburg,  the  first  merchants  of 
that  city." 


"  DISCOVERIES."  391 

Though  he  continued  to  talk  on,  I  heard  no  more;  my 
thoughts  become  confused,  and  my  head  felt  turning  with 
the  iutense  effort  to  collect  myself.  Geysiger?  thought  I; 
the  very  house  where  I  had  been  at  Hamburg, — where  I 
had  overheard  the  project  of  a  plan  against  myself !  Could 
it  be,  that  through  all  my  disguise  of  name  and  condition, 
that  they  knew  me?  With  what  increase  of  terror  did  this 
discovery  come  upon  me !  If  they  have,  indeed,  recognized 
me,  it  may  be  that  some  scheme  is  laid  against  my  life.  I 
could  not  tell  how  or  whence  this  suspicion  came ;  but, 
doubtless,  some  chance  word  let  drop  before  me  in  my  in- 
fancy, and  dormant  since  in  my  mind,  now  rushed  forth  to 
my  recollection  with  all  the  power  of  a  fact ! 

I  questioned  the  old  man  about  this  Geysiger,  —  where  he 
had  lived,  whom  he  had  married,  and  so  on  ;  but  he  only 
knew  that  his  wife  had  been  an  actress.  I  did  not  ask  for 
more.  The  identity  was  at  once  established.  I  next  tried 
to  find  out  if  any  relations  of  friendship  or  intimacy  had 
subsisted  between  the  Comtesse  and  Madame  de  Geysiger ; 
but,  on  the  contrary,  he  told  me  they  had  not  met  nor 
known  each  other  when  she  wrote  to  him ;  and  her  stay 
after  that  in  Hamburg  was  very  brief.  I  wearied  him 
with  asking  to  repeat  for  me  several  circumstances  of  these 
strange  revelations ;  nor  was  it  till  I  saw  him  fatigued  and 
half  exhausted  that  I  could  prevail  on  myself  to  cease.  I 
had  now  loitered  here  to  the  last  limit  of  my  time;  and, 
with  an  affectionate  leave  of  my  kind  old  master,  I  left 
Reichenau  to  make  my  way  with  all  speed  to  England. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 


THE    ORDEAL. 


Mr  first  care  on  arriving  in  England  was  to  resign  my  post 
as  an  "  Agent  secret."  This  was  not,  however,  so  easily 
accomplished  as  I  thought ;  for  the  Royalists  had  more  than 
once  before  discovered  that  those  in  their  employment  had 
been  seduced  into  the  service  of  their  enemies,  whose  rewards 
were  greater,  and  who  had  a  large  field  of  patronage  at  their 
disposal.  Unable  to  prevent  these  desertions  by  the  induce- 
ments of  profit,  they  had  resorted  to  a  system  of  secret 
intimidation  and  menace  which  unquestionably  had  its 
influence  over  many. 

I  have  not  space  here  to  dwell  on  a  theme,  some  of  whose 
details  might,  however,  prove  amusing,  illustrating  as  they 
did  the  mysterious  working  of  that  Jesuit  element  which 
labored  so  zealously  and  so  long  in  the  cause  of  the  Res- 
toration. There  is  a  little  work  still  extant,  called  "  L'Es- 
pionage  et  ses  Dangers,"  by  Jules  Lacoste,  published  at 
Bruxelles,  in  1802,  which  gives,  if  not  a  perfectly  authentic, 
at  least  a  very  graphic,  description  of  this  curious  system. 
The  writer  distinctly  alleges  that  five  of  his  colleagues  met 
their  deaths  by  poison,  on  mere  suspicion  of  their  disk>}ralty, 
and  gives  the  names  of  several  whose  impaired  faculties  and 
shattered  health  showed  that  they  had  narrowly,  but  perhaps 
not  more  fortunately,  escaped  a  similar  fate. 

For  my  own  part  I  must  own  that  such  perils  were  not 
mine.  It  is  true,  I  was  asked  to  reconsider  my  determina- 
tion. It  was  at  first  hinted  vaguely,  and  then  positively 
assured  me,  that  my  long  and  faithful  services  were  on  the 
eve  of  a  high  and  substantial  recognition.  I  was  even  told 
that  my  own  wishes  would  be  consulted  as  to  the  nature  of 
my  reward,  since  I  was  not  to  be  treated  like  one  of  the 


THE   ORDEAL.  393 

mere  herd.  When  all  these  temptations  were  found  to  fail, 
I  was  left,  as  it  were,  to  reflect  on  the  matter,  while  in  reality 
a  still  more  ingenious  and  artful  scheme  was  drawn  around 
me ;  the  Abbe  being  employed  as  its  chief  agent.  Affecting, 
in  a  measure,  to  coincide  with  and  even  encourage  my  deter- 
mination, he  invited  me  constantly  to  his  lodgings,  and  by 
degrees  insinuated  himself  into  my  confidence.  At  least  he 
learned  that  it  was  in  pure  disgust  of  the  career  itself  that  I 
desired  to  forsake  it,  and  not  with  any  prospect  of  other 
advancement  in  life.  He  sought  eagerly  to  discover  the 
secret  subject  which  engaged  my  thoughts,  for  I  could  not 
succeed  in  concealing  my  deep  pre-occupation ;  but  he 
cautiously  abstained  from  ever  obtruding  even  a  word  of 
question  or  inquiry.  Nor  did  his  ardor  stop  here ;  he 
studied  my  tastes,  my  passions,  and  my  disposition,  as  sub- 
jects for  successful  temptation.  I  was  young,  high-couraged, 
and  enthusiastic  ;  and  yet  he  found  me  indifferent  to  pleasure, 
and  indisposed  to  society  and  its  amusements.  He  knew 
me  to  be  poor,  and  yet  saw  clearly  that  wealth  did  not  daz- 
zle me.  I  was  humble  and  unknown ;  yet  no  recognition 
of  the  high  and  great  could  stir  my  heart  nor  awaken  my 
ambitions.  He  was  too  well  read  in  human  nature  to  accept 
these  as  signs  of  an  apathetic  and  callous  disposition  :  he 
recognized  them  rather  as  evidences  of  a  temperament  given 
up  to  some  one  and  engrossing  theme. 

I  own  that  in  my  utter  destitution  there  was  a  pleasing 
flattery  to  me  in  this  pursuit ;  and  I  could  not  but  feel  grati- 
fied at  the  zeal  with  which  he  seemed  to  devote  himself  to 
comprehend  me.  He  exposed  me  to  the  various  subjects 
of  temptation  which  so  successfully  assail  youth ;  but  he 
perceived  that  not  one  could  touch  the  secret  cord  of  my 
nature.  To  some  I  was  averse  ;  I  was  indifferent  to  others. 
He  took  me  into  society,  —  that  circle  of  his  intimates,  which 
really  in  conversational  excellence  surpassed  anything  I  had 
ever  met  before ;  and  although  I  enjoyed  it  at  the  time,  I 
could  refrain  from  frequenting  it  without  a  regret. 

"  You  are  a  puzzle  to  me,  Bernard,"  said  he,  addressing 
me  by  my  former  "  sobriquet,"  which  he  alwa}Ts  used  in 
private ;  "  I  want  to  see  you  take  interest  in  something,  and 
show  that  humanity  is  not  dead  within  you  ;  but  nothing 


394  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

seems  to  touch,  nothing  to  attract  you ;  and  yet  it  was  not 
thus  that  Sister  Ursule  first  represented  you  to  me.  She 
spoke  of  you  as  one  that  could  be  warmed  by  the  zeal  of  a 
great  cause,  and  whose  faculties  would  expand  when  once 
engaged  in  it.  If  the  monarchy  be  too  mean  for  your 
ambition,  what  say  you  to  the  church?" 

I  pleaded  my  unworthiness,  but  he  stopped  me,  saying : 

"The  career  it  is  that  creates  the  man.  Only  resolve 
firmly  to  fulfil  a  duty,  and  mark  how  capacity  comes  of  mere 
volition  !  Ursule  herself  is  an  instance  of  what  I  say.  Bred 
up  amidst  those  who  only  cared  for  the  world  and  its  vanities, 
see  what  she  became  by  the  working  of  noble  devotion,  and 
see  what  has  Margot  sunk  to  for  want  of  it !  " 

"Margot!  what  of  her?"  asked  I,  eagerly.  "You  did 
not  tell  me  that  you  had  tidings  of  her." 

The  sallow  cheek  of  the  Abbe  seemed  tinged  with  a 
faint  color  as  I  uttered  these  words  with  unusual  warmth. 
Whatever  his  feelings,  however,  they  were  quickly  under 
control,  as  he  said,  — 

"  Margot  has  fallen,  —  fallen  as  never  before  fell  one  of 
her  high  estate  !  " 

I  could  not  speak  from  emotion,  but  by  my  anxious  look 
I  entreated  him  to  continue.  The  recital,  as  he  gave  it, 
was  a  long  one,  but  briefly  told  was  this :  Margot  had 
been  "prepared"  by  her  sister  for  admission  into  the  re- 
stored convent  of  the  "  Chaise  Dieu,"  and  at  length  had 
entered  upon  her  novitiate.  This  being  completed,  she  had 
returned  home,  in  compliance  with  the  precepts  of  the  order, 
to  mix  in  the  world  and  its  pleasures  for  three  months,  —  the 
abandonment  of  such  temptation  being  accepted  as  the  best 
evidence  of  fitness  for  the  last  solemn  vow.  Dangerous  as 
such  an  ordeal  would  seem,  yet  scarcely  ever  is  one  found 
to  fail  under  it.  The  long  previous  training  of  the  mind, 
the  deep  impression  made  by  a  life  of  unbroken  devotion, 
and  that  isolation  that  comes  of  a  conventual  existence, 
joined  to  the  sense  of  disgrace  attendant  on  desertion,  all 
combined  to  make  the  novice  faithful  to  her  first  pledge. 
The  trial  is,  therefore,  little  other  than  a  formality,  and  she 
who  goes  through  it  seems  rather  a  martyr  suffering  torture, 
than  a  youthful  spirit  taking  its  last  fleeting  glimpse  of  joy 
forever ! 


THE   ORDEAL.  395 

To  fulfil  this  accustomed  ceremonial — for  it  was  simply 
such  — Margot  came  home  to  her  father's  house.  The  vio- 
lent spirit  of  the  Revolutionary  period  had  given  way  to 
a  more  calm  and  dispassionate  tone,  and  already  the  pos- 
sessors of  ancient  names  and  titles  were  returning  to  the 
respect  they  once  were  held  in.  In  the  little  village  of 
Linange  the  old  Marquis  was  now  esteemed  a  high  per- 
sonage,—  by  some,  indeed,  was  he  placed  above  the  "Maire" 
himself.  To  do  his  daughter  honor  was,  therefore,  a  duty ; 
and  every  one  whose  rank  gave  them  the  pretension,  en- 
deavored to  show  her  some  mark  of  respect  and  attention. 
Small  as  the  community  was,  it  had  its  dignitaries  and  its 
leaders,  and  they  vied  with  each  other  on  this  occasion. 

Rlargot  had  been  a  favorite,  she  was  about  to  be  a  nun, 
—  two  claims  which  appeal  to  the  heart  by  separate  roads ; 
for,  while  one  exacts  admiration,  the  other  disarms  jealousy. 
Thus,  even  they  who  would  have  felt  the  rivalry  of  her 
beauty  as  a  subject  of  irritation,  could  now  bestow  their 
praises  on  her  without  a  pang.  This  flattery  of  admiration 
from  everjT  quarter  was  too  much  for  the  brain  of  one 
whose  chief  fault  was  vanity.  The  splendor  of  her  dress, 
the  presents  lavished  on  her,  the  worship  which  reached 
her  wherever  she  went,  all  served  to  heighten  the  fascina- 
tion ;  and  while  Ursule  prayed  and  entreated  her  to  re- 
member that  these  were  but  as  the  flowers  that  deck  the 
victim  at  the  altar,  she  would  not  heed  her.  How  could 
she?  Was  not  the  swell  of  approving  voices  which  met 
her  in  society  louder  than  the  faint  whisperings  of  her  sis- 
ter's admonition?  How  could  the  cold  warnings  of  prudence 
stem  the  torrent  of  adulation  that  swept  through  her  heart? 
She  was  conscious,  too,  of  her  beauty ;  and,  for  the  first 
time,  felt  that  its  influence  was  experienced  by  others. 
The  reputation  of  the  lovely  novice  spread  far  and  near, 
and  strangers  came  to  Linange  to  see  and  speak  with  her. 
The  little  weekly  receptions  at  the  "  Mairie"  were  crowded 
with  new  faces.  Officers  from  the  garrison  at  Valence,  and 
travellers,  were  continually  arriving  ;  and  "La  Belle  Margot" 
was  a  toast  pledged  by  hundreds  who  never  saw  her. 

From  Ursule  alone  came  words  of  warning.  The  world 
of  her  acquaintance  met  her  with  nothing  but  flattery,  and 


396  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

flattery,  too,  more  palpably  expressed  than  is  usual,  since 
used  to  one  upon  whom,  in  a  few  days,  life  was  to  close 
forever. 

Margot  was  told  that,  to  waste  her  charms  on  the  dull 
world  of  a  little  village  was  an  insult  to  her  own  beauty,  and 
that  Valence,  which  so  long  had  heard  of  should  certainly 
see  her.  She  believed  this,  and  accordingly  insisted  on 
going  there.  At  Valence  her  triumphs  were  greater  than 
ever ;  but  there  she  heard  that  Paris  alone  could  rightly 
appreciate  loveliness  such  as  hers.  They  told  her,  too, 
that  it  was  an  age  in  which  beauty  was  sovereign ;  and  the 
nation,  wearied  of  a  monarchy,  had  accepted  military  glory 
and  female  loveliness  as  the  true  elements  of  command. 
The  will  of  the  novice  is  a  law  at  this  period,  and  the  old 
Marquis,  who  had  now  regained  some  remnant  of  his  for- 
tune, set  out  for  Paris. 

The  most  hackneyed  in  the  world's  ways  knows  well  with 
what  a  sense  of  enjoyment  he  finds  himself  in  Paris,  the 
most  brilliant  of  all  the  cities  of  the  earth.  The  gorgeous 
panorama  of  life  that  passes  there  before  his  eyes  has  no- 
where its  equal.  What,  then,  must  it  have  appeared  to  the 
fresh  enthusiasm  of  that  young  girl,  eager  for  pleasure,  for 
excitement  and  admiration ! 

At  first  her  whole  soul  was  bent  upon  the  gorgeous  spec- 
tacle before  her,  —  the  splendor  of  a  scene  such  as  she  in 
imagination  had  never  realized.  The  palaces,  the  military 
pomp,  the  equipages,  the  dress,  were  far  above  all  she  had 
conceived  of  magnificence  and  display ;  but  the  theatres 
imparted  a  delight  to  her  beyond  all  the  rest.  The  ideal 
world  that  she  saw  there  typified  a  world  of  passionate  feel- 
ing, of  love,  joy,  ambition,  and  triumph  !  What  a  glorious 
contrast  to  the  grave-like  stillness  of  the  convent,  —  to  the 
living  death  of  a  poor  nun's  existence !  It  is  true,  she  had 
been  taught  to  regard  these  things  as  sinful,  and  as  the  base 
conceptions  of  a  depraved  nature ;  she  had  even  come  to 
witness  them  to  confirm  the  abhorrence  in  which  she  held 
them,  and  show  that  they  appealed  to  no  one  sentiment  of 
her  heart.  Alas  !  the  experiment  was  destiued  to  prove  too 
costly. 

The  splendor,  the    beauty,  the   glowing   language  of  the 


THE  ORDEAL.  397 

scene,  the  strains  of  music,  softer  and  more  entrancing  than 
ever  swept  across  her  senses,  —  the  very  picturesque  effect 
of  everything,  —  varied  with  every  artifice  of  light  and 
shadow,  carried  her  away,  and  bore  her  to  an  ideal  world, 
where  she,  too,  had  her  homage  of  devotion,  where  her 
beauty  had  its  worshippers,  and  she  was  herself  loved.  It 
was  in  vain  that  she  tried  to  reason  herself  out  of  these 
fancies,  and  regard  such  displays  as  unreal  and  fictitious. 
Had  the}'  been  so,  thought  she,  they  could  not  appeal,  as 
I  see  and  know  they  do,  to  the  sympathies  of  those  thou- 
sands whose  breasts  are  heaving  in  suspense,  and  whose 
hearts  are  throbbing  in  agony.  But  more  than  that,  she 
beheld  the  great  actress  of  the  day  received  with  all  the 
homage  rendered  to  a  queen  in  the  real  world. 

If  ever  there  was  one  calculated  to  carry  with  her  from 
the  stage  into  society  all  the  admiration  she  excited,  it  was 
that  admirable  actress  who  was  then  at  the  very  outset  of 
that  brilliant  career  which  for  nigh  half  a  century  adorned 
the  French  stage,  and  rendered  it  the  most  celebrated  in 
Europe.  Young,  beautiful  in  the  highest  sense  of  the  word, 
with  a  form  of  perfect  mould,  gifted  and  graceful  in  every 
gesture,  with  a  voice  of  thrilling  sweetness  and  a  manner 
that  in  the  highest  circles  fouud  no  superior,  Mademoiselle 
Mars  brought  to  her  profession  traits  and  powers,  any  one 
of  which  might  have  insured  success.  I  remember  her  well ! 
I  can  bring  to  mind  the  thundering  applause  that  did  not 
wait  for  her  appearance  on  the  boards,  but  announced  her 
coming ;  that  gorgeous  circle  of  splendid  and  apparelled 
beauty,  stimulated  to  a  momentary  burst  of  enthusiasm  ; 
that  waving  pit,  rocking  and  heaving  like  a  stormy  sea,  — 
the  hoarse  bray  of  ten  thousand  voices,  rude  and  ruthless 
enough  many  of  them,  and  yet  all  raised  in  homage  of  one 
who  spoke  to  the  tenderest  feelings  of  the  heart,  and  whose 
accents  were  the  softest  sounds  that  ever  issued  from  human 
lips.  And  I  remember,  too,  how,  at  the  first  syllable  she 
uttered,  that  deafening  clamor  would  cease,  and,  by  an 
impulse  that  smote  every  one  of  that  vast  assemblage  in  the 
same  instant  of  time,  the  stillness  was  like  the  grave  ! 

Margot  became  so  fascinated  by  her  that  she  would  not 
lose  one  single  night  when  she  performed.     It  was  at  first 


398  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

a  pleasure,  —  it  then  became  a  passion  with  her.  The  real 
life  she  mixed  in  became  poor,  weak,  and  uninteresting 
beside  the  world  of  intense  feeling  the  stage  presented. 
The  one  seemed  all  false,  unreal,  and  fictitious ;  the  other 
truthful,  and  addressing  itself  to  the  heart  direct. 

Mademoiselle  Mars  herself  at  length  remarked  the  lovely 
girl  who,  with  eager  gaze  and  steadfast,  sat  each  night  in 
the  same  place,  indifferent  to  everything  save  the  business 
of  the  scene.  She  felt  the  power  she  exercised  over  her,  and 
saw  how  her  whole  nature  was  her  captive.  Once  or  twice 
their  eyes  actually  met,  and  Margot  felt  at  the  moment 
that  she  was  beneath  the  glance  of  one  who  read  her  very 
thoughts,  and  knew  each  working  of  her  heart. 

A  few  nights  after  this,  they  met  in  society,  and  Made- 
moiselle Mars,  without  introduction  of  any  kind,  approached 
and  spoke  to  her.  The  words  were  few  and  commonplace, 
—  some  half  apology  for  a  liberty,  an  expression  of  pleasure 
at  meeting  her,  and  a  kind  of  thankful  return  for  the  atten- 
tion by  which  she  marked  her.  She  saw  the  attraction 
which  the  stage  possessed  for  her,  and  made  it  the  subject 
of  their  conversation.  The  great  actress  was  herself  an 
enthusiast  about  her  art,  and  when  she  spoke  of  it,  her 
genius  kindled  at  once,  and  her  words  rose  to  high  elo- 
quence. She  told  Margot  the  whole  story  of  her  own 
devotion  to  the  stage,  —  how  she  had  been  destined  to  the 
cloister,  and  that  an  accidental  visit  to  the  theatre  at  Nancy 
had  determined  the  entire  fortunes  of  her  life.  "  I  felt 
within  me,"  said  she,  "a  power  of  expression  that  I  could 
not  bear  to  bury  beneath  the  veil  of  the  nun.  The  poetry 
that  stirred  my  heart  should  find  its  utterance ;  nor  could 
I  endure  the  stormy  conflict  of  passion  that  raged  within 
me,  save  in  giving  it  a  form  and  a  shape.  I  became  an 
actress  for  myself;  and  hence  perhaps  why  I  have  met 
with  the  applause  of  others." 

Margot's  acquaintance  thus  casually  formed  ripened  into 
intimacy,  and  quickly  into  a  close  friendship.  The  ritual 
that  prescribed  the  ordeal  through  which  she  was  going, 
ordained  that  it  should  be  restricted  by  scarcely  a  limit. 
The  novice  was  really  to  be  her  own  mistress  for  a  brief 
season  in  that  world  she  was  to  leave  so  soon  and  forever. 


TPIE   ORDEAL.  399 

She  now  accompanied  Mademoiselle  Mars  not  only  into 
the  wide  circle  of  Parisian  society,  but  into  that  far  more 
seductive  one  which  consisted  of  her  most  intimate  friends. 
Here  she  met  all  that  boasted  of  artistic  excellence  in  the 
capital,  —  the  brilliant  dramatist,  the  witty  reviewer  of  the 
"  Debats,"  the  great  actor, —  it  was  Talma  in  those  days,  — 
the  prima  donna  who  was  captivating  all  Europe,  and  a  host 
of  lesser  celebrities,  all  brimful  of  spirits,  joy,  and  gayety, 
as  people  with  whom  the  world  went  well,  and  whose  very 
business  in  it  was  that  of  pleasure  and  amusement.  I  need 
not  trace  the  course  by  which  Margot  grew  to  a  perfect 
infatuation  with  such  company.  Wiser  and  calmer  heads 
than  hers  have  been  unable  to  resist  the  charms  of  a  society 
made  up  of  such  elements,  nor  was  she  herself  to  pass  with- 
out admiration  from  them.  Her  beauty  and  her  youth,  the 
mingled  gentleness  and  energy  of  her  temperament,  her 
girlish  modesty,  blended  with  a  highly-wrought  enthusiasm, 
were  exactly  the  qualities  which  they  could  value  and 
appreciate. 

"What  gifts  for  the  stage!"  said  one  of  the  greatest 
amongst  them,  one  night ;  "  if  Mademoiselle  was  not  a 
Marchioness,  she  might  be  a  Mars." 

"  But  I  am  going  to  be  a  nun,"  said  she,  innocently ;  and 
a  joyous  burst  of  laughter  received  the  speech.  "It  is 
quite  true,"  said  she,  "  and  most  unkind  of  you  to  laugh 
at  me." 

"  By  Saint  Denis,  I'll  go  and  turn  Trappist  or  Carmelite 
to-morrow,"  cried  one,  "  if  only  to  pay  you  a  visit  in  your 
convent." 

"I  wish  they'd  accept  me  as  almoner  to  your  cloister, 
Mademoiselle,"  said  Breslot,  the  comedian;  "I'm  getting 
tired  of  serious  parts,  and  would  like  a  little  light  business." 

"  Am  I  the  style  of  thing  for  a  superior,  think  ye?  "  said 
Jossard,  the  life  of  the  "  Francais,"  throwing  over  his  head 
a  lace  scarf  of  one  of  the  ladies,  and  assuming  a  demure 
look  of  indescribable  drollery. 

"How  I  should  like  to  hear  Mademoiselle  recite  those 
lines  in  your  play  of  '  Cecile,'  Monsieur  Bertignac,"  said  a 
famous  actress  of  tragedy.  "  Her  face,  figure,  voice,  and 
air  are  perfect  for  them.  •  I  mean  the  farewell  the  novice 


400  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

takes  of  her  sister  as  day  is  just  breaking,  and  the  distant 
bells  of  the  cloister  announce  the  approach  of  the  ceremony." 

"Where's  the  book?  —  who  has  it?"  called  out  three  or 
four  together. 

"  The  copies  have  been  all  seized  by  the  police,"  said 
one.  "  Bertignac  was  suspected  of  a  covert  satire  on  the 
authorities." 

"Or  they  have  been  bought  up  for  distribution  by  the 
Society  of  '  Bons  Livres,'"  said  another;  "and  Bertignac 
is  to  be  made  Gentleman  of  the  Pope's  Antechamber." 

"  Here  is  one,  however,  fortunately  rescued,"  said  Made- 
moiselle Mars,  producing  the  volume,  which  Jossard  quickly 
snatched  from  her,  and  began,  in  pompous  tones,  reciting 
the  lines,  begining,  — 

"  Sceur  de  mon  enfance,  si  je  te  quitte  pour  toujours." 

"An  abominable  line,"  cried  one,  "and  perfectly  im- 
possible to  give  without  a  bassoon  accompaniment  for  the 
last  word." 

"The  epithet,  too,  is  downright  nonsense.  Why  sister 
of  her  infancy  ?  Did  she  cease  to  be  so  as  she  grew  up  ?  " 
said  another. 

"I  wrote  the  lines  after  supping  with  Breslot,"  said  the 
author.  "One  is  not  accountable  for  words  uttered  in 
moments  of  debility  and  hunger." 

"  Be  the  lines  what  they  may,  let  us  hear  Mademoiselle 
read  them,"  said  Talma;  "  and  I  mistake  greatly  but,  with 
all  our  studied  accuracy,  we  shall  learn  something  from  one 
whose  nature  is  not  bound  by  our  trammels." 

To  have  adventured  on  such  a  task,  before  such  an  audi- 
ence, was  more  than  Margot  could  dare  to  contemplate,  and 
she  grew  faint  and  sick  at  the  bare  thought.  They  were 
not,  however,  of  that  mould  which  listens  to  excuses  and 
refusals.  The  great  familiarity  which  existed  amongst  them 
excluded  all  deference  to  individual  likings  or  dislikings,  and 
if  servants  of  the  public  on  the  stage,  off  the  boards  they 
were  the  slaves  of  each  other.  Margot,  almost  lifeless  with 
terror,  was  therefore  obliged  to  comply.  At  first  the  words 
fell  from  her  lips  almost  inaudibly ;  by  degrees  her  voice 
gained  strength,  and  only  a  tremulous  accent  betrayed  the 


THE  ORDEAL.  401 

struggle  within  her.  But  at  last,  when  she  came  to  the 
part  where  the  nun,  as  if  asking  herself  whether  the  world 
and  its  fascinations  had  taken  no  hold  upon  her  heart,  con- 
fesses, with  a  burst  of  spirit-wrung  misery,  that  it  was  so, 
and  that  to  leave  that  joyous  sunlight  for  the  gloomy  sepul- 
chre of  the  cloister  was  worse  than  death  itself,  her  utter- 
ance grew  full  and  strong,  her  dark  eyes  flashed,  her  color 
heightened,  her  bosom  heaved,  and  she  gave  the  passage 
with  such  a  burst  of  thrilling  eloquence  that  the  last  words 
were  drowned  in  thunders  of  applause,  only  hushed  as 
they  beheld  her  fall  back  fainting,  and  perfectly  overcome 
by  her  emotions. 

"And  you  think  you  can  take  the  veil,  child?"  asked 
Mademoiselle  Mars,  when  they  were  alone. 

But  Margot  made  no  answer. 

"  You  believe,  Margot,  that  it  will  be  possible  for  you  to 
stifle  within  you  feelings  such  as  these,  and  that  the  veil  and 
the  cord  can  change  your  nature?  No,  no!  If  the  heart 
be  not  dead,  it  is  cruelty  to  bury  it.  Yours  is  not  so,  and 
shall  have  another  destiny." 

Mademoiselle  Mars  at  once  communicated  with  the  old 
Marquis,  and  endeavored  to  dissuade  him  from  his  purpose 
regarding  his  granddaughter;  but  he  would  not  listen  to 
her  arguments,  nor  heed  her  counsels.  At  first,  indeed,  he 
could  not  be  brought  to  believe  that  Margot  herself  could 
concur  in  them.  It  seemed  incredible  to  him  that  a  child 
of  his  house  could  so  far  forget  her  station  and  self-respect 
as  to  avow  herself  unequal  to  any  sacrifice  or  any  trial, 
much  less  one  in  itself  the  noblest  and  the  highest  of  all 
martyrdom. 

"  You  will  see,"  cried  he,  eagerly,  "  that  it  is  you  —  not 
I  —  have  mistaken  her.  These  gauds  of  the  fashionable 
world  have  no  real  attraction  for  her.  Her  heart  is  within 
those  walls,  where,  in  a  few  days  more,  she  will  herself  be 
forever.  She  shall  come  and  tell  you  so  with  her  own 
lips." 

He  sent  a  servant  to  call  her,  but  she  was  not  to  be  found ! 
lie  searched  everywhere,  but  in  vain.  Margot  was  gone! 
From  that  day  forth  she  was  not  to  lie  met  with.  No  means 
were  spared  in  prosecuting  the  search.     Mademoiselle  Mars 

26 


402  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

herself,  deeply  afflicted  at  any  inducements  she  might  have 
held  forth  to  her,  joined  eagerly  in  the  pursuit,  but  to  no 
end. 

"  But  you  cannot  mean,  Abbe,"  said  I,  as  he  completed  the 
narrative,  "that  to  this  very  hour  no  trace  of  her  has  been 
discovered  ?  " 

"  I  will  not  say  so  much,"  said  he;  "for  once  or  twice 
tidings  have  reached  her  friends  that  she  was  well  and 
happy.  The  career  she  had  chosen,  she  well  knew  would  be 
regarded  by  her  family  as  a  deep  degradation ;  and  she  only 
said  to  one  who  saw  her,  '  Tell  them  that  their  name  shall 
not  be  dishonored.  As  for  her  who  bears  it,  she  deems 
herself  ennobled  by  the  stage ! '  She  was  in  Italy  when  last 
heard  of,  and  in  the  Italian  theatres ;  and  in  some  of  Alfieri's 
pieces  had  earned  the  most  triumphant  successes.  Poor 
girl !  from  her  very  cradle  her  destiny  marked  her  for  mis- 
fortune. What  a  mockery,  then,  these  triumphs  if  she  but 
recalls  the  disgrace  by  which  they  are  purchased !  " 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

THE   GLOOMIEST   PASSAGE    OF   ALL. 

Shall  I  own  that  Margot's  story  affected  me  in  a  very 
different  manner  from  what  the  good  Abbe  had  intended  it 
should?  I  could  neither  sympathize  with  the  outraged  pride 
of  the  old  Marquis,  the  offended  dignity  of  family,  nor  with 
the  insulted  honor  of  the  sacred  vocation  she  had  abandoned. 
My  reflections  took  a  very  different  form,  and  turned  entirely 
upon  the  dangers  of  the  career  she  had  adopted,  —  perils 
which,  from  what  I  could  collect  of  her  character,  were  ex- 
tremely likely  to  assail  her.  She  was  young,  beautiful,  gifted, 
and  ambitious ;  and,  above  all,  she  was  friendless.  What 
temptations  would  not  assail  her,  —  by  what  flatteries  would 
she  not  be  beset !  Would  she  be  endowed  with  strength  to 
resist  these?  AVould  the  dignity  of  her  ancient  descent 
guard  her,  or  would  the  enthusiasm  for  her  art  protect  her? 
These  were  questions  that  I  could  not  solve,  or,  rather,  I 
solved  them  in  many  and  different  ways.  For  a  long  time 
had  she  occupied  a  great  share  in  my  heart ;  sometimes  I 
felt  towards  her  as  towards  a  sister.  I  thought  of  the  hours 
we  had  passed  side  by  side  over  our  books,  —  now  working 
hard  and  eagerly,  now  silent  and  thoughtful,  as  some  train 
of  ideas  would  wile  us  away  from  study,  and  leave  us  forget- 
ful of  even  each  other,  —  till  a  chance  word,  a  gesture,  a 
sigh,  would  recall  us,  and  then,  interchanging  our  confes- 
sions, —  for  such  they  were.  —  we  turned  to  our  books  again. 
But  at  other  times  I  thought  of  her  as  one  dearer  still  than 
this,  —  as  of  one  to  win  whose  praise  I  would  adventure  any- 
thing; whose  chance  words  lingered  in  my  memory,  sug- 
gestive of  many  a  hope,  and,  alas!  many  a  fear.  It  is  no 
graceful  reflection  to  dwell  upon,  however  truthful,  that  our 
iirst  loves  are  the  emanations  of  our  self-esteem.     They  who 


404  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

first  teach  us  to  be  heroes  to  our  own  hearts  are  our  earliest 
idols.  Ay,  and  with  all  the  changes  and  chances  of  life, 
they  have  their  altars  within  us  to  our  latest  years.  Why 
should  it  not  be  so  ?  What  limit  ought  there  to  be  to  our 
gratitude  to  those  who  first  suggested  noble  ambitions,  high- 
soaring  thoughts,  and  hopes  of  a  glorious  future,  —  who 
instilled  in  us  our  first  pride  of  manhood,  and  made  us  seem 
worthy  of  being  loved  ! 

Margot  had  done  all  this  for  me  when  but  a  child,  and 
now  she  was  a  woman,  beautiful  and  gifted !  The  fame 
of  her  genius  was  world-wide.  Did  she  still  remember  me? 
—  had  she  ever  a  thought  for  the  long  past  hours  when 
we  walked  hand-in-hand  together,  or  sat  silently  in  some 
summer  arbor  ?  I  recalled  all  that  she  had  ever  said  to  me, 
in  consolation  of  the  past,  or  with  hope  for  the  future.  I 
pondered  over  little  incidents,  meaningless  at  the  time,  but 
now  full  of  their  own  strong  significance ;  and  I  felt  at 
last  assured  that,  when  she  had  spoken  to  me  of  ambitious 
darings  and  high  exploits,  she  had  been  less  exhorting  me 
than  giving  utterance  to  the  bursting  feelings  of  her  own 
adventurous  spirit. 

Her  outbreaks  of  impatience,  her  scarcely  suppressed  re- 
bellion against  the  dull  ritual  of  our  village  life,  her  ill-dis- 
guised suspicion  of  priestly  influence,  now  rose  before  me ; 
and  I  could  see  that  the  flame  which  had  burst  forth  at  last, 
had  been  smouldering  for  many  a  year  within  her.  I  could 
remember,  too,  the  temper,  little  short  of  scorn,  in  which 
she  saw  me  devote  myself  to  Jesuit  readings,  and  labor  hard 
at  the  dry  tasks  the  Sister  Ursule  had  prescribed  for  me. 
And  yet  then  all  my  ambitions  were  of  the  highest  and 
noblest.  I  could  have  braved  any  dangers,  or  met  any 
perils,  in  the  career  of  a  missionary!  Labor,  endurance, 
suffering,  martyrdom  itself,  had  no  terror  for  me.  How  was 
it  that  this  spirit  did  not  touch  her  heart?  Were  all  her 
sympathies  so  bound  up  with  the  world  that  every  success 
was  valueless  that  won  no  favor  with  mankind?  Had  she 
no  test  for  nobility  of  soul  save  in  recognition  of  society? 
When  I  tried  to  answer  these  questions,  I  suddenly  be- 
thought me  of  my  own  shortcomings.  Where  had  this  ambi- 
tion led  me,  —what  were  its  fruits?     Had  I  really  pursued 


THE  GLOOMIEST  PASSAGE  OF  ALL.      405 

the  proud  path  I  once  tracked  out  for  myself?  or,  worse 
thought  again,  had  it  no  existence  whatever?  Were  devo- 
tion, piety,  and  single-heartedness  nothing  but  imposition, 
hypocrisy,  and  priestcraft?  Were  the  bright  examples  of 
missionary  enterprise  only  cheats?  were  all  the  narratives 
of  their  perilous  existence  but  deception  and  falsehood  ?  My 
latter  experiences  of  life  had  served  little  to  exalt  the  world 
in  my  esteem.  I  had  far  more  frequently  come  into  contact 
with  corruption  than  with  honesty.  My  experiences  were  all 
those  of  fraud  and  treachery, — of  such,  too,  from  men  that 
the  world  reputed  as  honorable  and  high-minded.  There 
was  but  one  step  more,  and  that  a  narrow  one,  to  include  the 
priest  in  the  same  category  with  the  layman,  and  deem  them 
all  alike  rotten  aud  corrupted.  I  must  acknowledge  that  the 
Abbe  himself  gave  no  contradiction  to  this  unlucky  theory. 
Artful  and  designing  always,  he  scrupled  at  nothing  to  attain 
an  object,  and  could  employ  a  casuistry  to  enforce  his  views 
far  more  creditable  to  his  craft  than  to  his  candor.  I  was 
no  stranger  to  the  arts  by  which  he  thought  to  entrap  myself. 
I  saw  him  condescend  to  habits  and  associates  the  very 
reverse  of  those  he  liked,  in  the  hope  of  pleasing  me ;  and 
even  when  narrating  the  story  of  Margot's  fall,  —  for  such 
he  called  it,  —  I  saw  him  watching  the  impression  it  produced 
upon  me,  and  canvassing,  as  it  were,  the  chances  that  here 
at  length  might  possibly  be  found  the  long-wished-for  means 
of  obtaining  influence  over  me. 

"I  do  not  ask  of  you,"  said  he,  as  he  concluded,  "  to  see 
all  these  things  as  I  see  them.  You  knew  them  in  then- 
days  of  poverty  and  downfall ;  you  have  seen  them  the 
inhabitants  of  an  humble  village,  leading  a  life  of  obscurity 
and  privation, — their  very  pretension  to  rank  and  title  a 
thing  to  conceal;  their  ancient  blood  a  subject  of  scorn  and 
insult.  But  I  remember  the  Marquis  de  Nipernois  a  haughty 
noble  in  the  haughtiest  court  of  Europe ;  I  have  see  that  very 
Marquis  receiving  royalty  on  the  steps  of  his  own  chateau, 
and  have  witnessed  his  days  of  greatness  and  grandeur." 

"True,"  said  I,  "but  even  with  due  allowance  for  all 
this,  I  cannot  regard  the  matter  in  the  same  light  thai  you 
do.  To  my  eyes,  there  is  no  such  dignity  in  the  life  of  a 
nun,  nor  any  such  disgrace  in  that  of  an  actress." 


406  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

I  said  this  purposely  in  the  very  strongest  terms  I  could 
employ,  to  see  how  he  would  reply  to  it. 

"  And  you  are  right,  Gervois,"  said  he,  laying  his  hand 
affectionately  on  mine.  "  You  are  right.  Genius  and  good- 
ness can  ennoble  auy  station,  and  there  are  few  places  where 
such  qualities  exert  such  influence  as  the  stage." 

I  suffered  him  to  continue  without  interruption  in  this 
strain,  for  every  word  he  spoke  served  to  confirm  me  in  my 
suspicion  of  his  dishonesty.  Mistaking  the  attention  with 
which  I  listened  for  an  evidence  of  conviction,  he  enlarged 
upon  the  theme,  and  ended  at  last  by  the  conclusion  that  to 
judge  of  Margot's  actions  fairly  we  should  first  learn  her 
motives. 

"  AVho  can  tell,"  said  he,  "  what  good  she  may  not  have 
proposed  to  herself !  —  by  what  years  of  patient  endurance 
and  study  —  by  what  passages  of  suffering  and  sorrow  —  she 
may  have  planned  some  great  and  good  object !  It  is  a  nar- 
row view  of  life  that  limits  itself  to  the  day  we  live  in.  They 
who  measure  their  station  by  the  task  they  perform,  and 
not  by  its  results  on  the  world  at  large,  are  but  short- 
sighted mortals ;  and  it  is  thus  I  would  speak  to  yourself, 
Gervois.  You  are  dissatisfied  with  your  path  in  life.  You 
complain  of  it  as  irksome,  and  even  ignoble.  Have  you 
never  asked  yourself,  is  not  this  mere  egotism?  Have  I 
the  right  to  think  only  of  what  suits  me,  and  accommo- 
dates itself  to  my  caprices?  Are  there  no  higher  objects 
than  my  pleasure  or  my  convenience?  Is  the  great  fabric 
of  society  of  less  account  than  my  likings  or  dislikings? 
Am  I  the  judge,  too,  of  the  influence  I  may  exert  over 
others,  or  how  my  actions  may  sway  the  destinies  of  man- 
kind? None  should  be  more  able  to  apply  these  facts  than 
yourself,  —  you  that  in  a  rank  of  which  you  were,  I  must 
say  unjustly,  ashamed,  and  yet  were  of tentimes  in  possession 
of  secrets  on  which  thrones  r'ested  and  dynasties  endured." 

He  said  much  more  in  the  same  strain  ;  some  of  his  obser- 
vations being  true  and  incontestable,  and  others  the  mere 
outpouring  of  his  crafty  and  subtle  intellect.  They  both 
alike  fell  unheeded  by  me  now.  Enough  for  me  that  I  had 
detected,  or  fancied  I  had  detected,  him.  I  listened  only 
from  curiosity,  and  as  one  listens  for  the  last  time. 


THE  GLOOMIEST  PASSAGE  OF  ALL.      407 

Yes!  I  vowed  to  myself  that  this  should  be  our  last  meet- 
ing. I  could  uot  descend  to  the  meanness  of  dissimulation, 
and  affect  a  friendship  I  did  not  feel ;  nor  could  I  expose 
myself  to  the  chances  of  a  temptation  which  assailed  me  in 
so  many  shapes  and  forms.  I  resolved,  therefore,  that  I 
would  not  again  visit  the  Abbe ;  and  my  only  doubt  was, 
whether  I  should  not  formally  declare  my  determination. 

He  had  ceased  to  speak ;  and  I  sat,  silently  pondering  this 
question  in  my  own  mind.  I  forgot  that  I  was  not  alone, 
and  was  only  conscious  of  my  error  when  I  looked  up  and 
saw  his  small  and  deep-set  eyes  firmly  fixed  upon  me. 

kk  Well,  be  it  so,  Gervois,"  said  he,  calmly;  "  but  let  us 
part  friends." 

I  started,  and  felt  my  face  and  forehead  burning  with  a 
sudden  flush  of  shame.  There  are  impulses  that  sway  us 
sometimes  stronger  than  our  reason  ;  but  they  are  hurricanes 
that  pass  away  quickly,  and  leave  the  bark  of  our  destiny  to 
sail  on  its  course  unswervingly. 

"  You  '11  come  back  to  me  one  of  these  days,  and  I  will  be 
just  as  ready  to  say,  '  Welcome ! '  as  I  now  say  '  Good-bye ! 
good-bye  ! '  "  and,  sorrowfully  repeating  the  last  word  as  he 
went,  he  waved  his  hand  to  me,  and  withdrew. 

For  a  moment  I  wished  to  follow  him,  to  say  I  know  not 
what;  but  calmer  thoughts  prevailed,  and  I  left  the  house 
and  wandered  homewards.  That  same  evening  I  sent  in  my 
demand  of  resignation,  and  the  next  morning  came  the  reply 
according  it.  My  first  thought  was  a  joyful  sense  of  liberty 
and  freedom  from  a  bondage  I  had  long  rebelled  against ;  my 
next  was  a  dreary  consciousness  of  my  helpless  and  friend- 
less condition  in  life.  I  opened  my  little  purse  upon  the 
table,  and  spread  out  its  contents  before  me.  There  were 
seven  pounds  and  a  few  shillings.  A  portion  of  my  salary 
was  still  due  to  me,  but  now  I  would  have  felt  it  a  degra- 
dation to  claim  it,  so  odious  had  the  career  become  in  my 
eyes. 

I  began  to  think  over  the  various  things  for  which  my 
capacity  might  fit  me.  They  seemed  a  legion  when  I  stood 
in  no  need  of  them,  and  yet  none  now  rose  to  my  mind 
without  some  almost  impassable  barrier.  I  knew  no  art  nor 
handicraft.     My  habits  rendered  me  unequal  to  daily  labor 


408  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

with  my  bands.  I  knew  many  things  en  amateur,  but  not  as 
an  artist.  I  could  ride,  draw,  fence,  and  bad  some  skill  in 
music ;  but  in  not  one  of  tbese  could  I  compete  witb  tbe 
humblest  of  those  who  taught  them.  Foreign  languages, 
too,  I  could  speak,  read,  and  write  well ;  but  of  any  method 
to  communicate  their  knowledge  I  had  not  the  vaguest  con- 
ception. After  all,  these  seemed  my  best  acquirements,  and 
I  determined  to  try  and  teach  them. 

With  this  resolve  I  went  out  and  spent  two  pounds  of  my 
little  capital  in  books.  It  was  a  scanty  library,  but  I  arrayed 
it  on  a  table  next  my  window  with  pride  and  satisfaction.  I 
turned  over  the  leaves  of  my  dictionary  with  something  of 
the  feeling  with  which  a  settler  in  a  new  region  of  the  globe 
might  have  wandered  through  his  little  territory. 

My  grammars  I  regarded  as  mines  whose  ores  were  to 
enrich  me ;  and  my  well-thumbed  copy  of  Telemachus,  and 
an  odd  volume  of  Lessing's  comedies,  were  in  themselves 
stores  of  pleasure  and  amusement.  I  suppose  it  is  a  con- 
dition of  the  human  mind  that  makes  our  enjoyments  in  the 
ratio  of  the  sacrifices  they  have  cost  us.  I  know  of  myself, 
that  since  that  day  I  now  speak  of,  it  has  been  my  fortune 
to  be  wealthy,  to  possess  around  me  every  luxury  my  wish 
could  compass,  and  yet  I  will  own  it,  that  I  have  never 
gazed  on  the  well-filled  shelves  of  a  costly  library,  replete 
with  every  comfort,  with  a  tithe  of  the  satisfaction  I  then 
contemplated  the  two  or  three  dog-eared  volumes  that  lay 
before  me. 

My  first  few  days  of  liberty  were  passed  in  planning  out  the 
future.  I  studied  the  newspapers  in  hope  of  meeting  some- 
thing adapted  to  my  capacity ;  but  though  in  appearance  no 
lack  of  these,  I  invariably  found  some  fatal  obstacle  inter- 
vened to  prevent  my  success.  At  one  place,  the  require- 
ments were  beyond  my  means ;  at  another,  the  salary  was 
insufficient  for  bare  support;  and  at  one  I  remember  my 
functions  of  teacher  were  to  be  united  with  menial  offices 
against  which  my  pride  revolted.  I  resolved  to  adventure 
at  last,  and  opened  a  little  school,  —  an  evening  school  for 
those  whose  occupations  made  the  day  too  valuable  to 
devote  any  part  of  it  to  education. 

At  the  end  of  some  five  weeks  I  had  three  pupils ;  hard- 


THE  GLOOMIEST  PASSAGE  OF  ALL.       409 

working  and  hard-worked  men  they  were,  who,  steadily  bent 
upon  advancement  in  life,  now  entered  upon  a  career  of 
labor  far  greater  than  all  they  mad  ever  encountered. 

Two  were  about  to  emigrate,  and  their  studies  were  geog- 
raphy, with  some  natural  history,  and  whatever  I  could 
acquire  for  them  of  information  about  the  resources  of  a 
certain  portion  of  Upper  Canada.  The  third  was  a  weaver, 
and  desired  to  learn  French  in  order  to  read  the  works  of 
French  mathematicians,  at  that  time  sparingly  translated 
into  English.  lie  was  a  man  of  superior  intellect,  and 
capable  of  a  high  cultivation,  but  poor  to  the  very  last 
degree.  The  thirst  for  knowledge  had  possessed  him  ex- 
actly as  the  passion  for  gambling  lays  hold  of  some  other 
men ;  he  lived  for  nothing  else.  The  defeats  and  diffi- 
culties he  encountered  but  served  to  brace  him  to  further 
efforts,  and  he  seemed  to  forget  all  his  privations  and  his 
poverty  in  the  aim  of  his  glorious  pursuit. 

To  keep  in  advance  of  him  in  his  knowledge,  I  found  im- 
possible. All  that  I  could  do  was  to  aid  him  in  acquiring 
French,  which,  strange  to  say,  presented  great  difficulties 
to  him.  He  however  made  me  a  partaker  of  his  own  en- 
thusiasm, and  I  worked  hard  and  long  at  pursuits  for  which 
my  habits  of  mind  and  thought  little  adapted  me.  I  need 
scarcely  say  that  all  this  time  my  worldly  wealth  made  no 
progress.  My  scholars  were  very  poor  themselves,  and  the 
pittance  I  earned  from  them  I  had  oftentimes  to  refuse 
accepting.  Each  day  showed  my  little  resources  growing 
smaller,  and  my  hopes  held  out  no  better  prospect  for  the 
future. 

Was  I  to  struggle  on  thus  to  the  last,  and  sink  under  the 
pressure  ?  was  now  the  question  that  kept  perpetually  rising 
to  my  mind.  My  poverty  had  now  descended  to  actual 
misery ;  my  clothes  were  ragged ;  my  shoes  scarcely  held 
together ;  more  than  once  an  entire  day  would  pass  without 
ii  iv  breaking  my  fast. 

I  lost  all  zest  for  life,  and  wandered  about  in  lonely  and 
unfrequented  places,  in  a  half-dreamy  state,  too  vague  to  be 
called  melancholy.  My  mind,  at  this  time,  vacillated  be- 
tween a  childish  timidity  and  a  species  of  almost  savage 
ferocity.     At   some  moments   tears  would  steal   along   my 


410  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

cheeks,  and  my  heart  vibrated  to  the  very  finest  emotions ; 
at  others,  I  was  possessed  with  an  almost  demoniac  fierce- 
ness, that  seemed  only  in  search  of  some  object  to  wreak  its 
vengeance  upon.  A  strange  impression,  however,  haunted 
me  through  both  these  opposite  states,  and  this  was,  that 
my  life  was  menaced  by  some  one  or  other,  and  that  I  went 
in  hourly  peril  of  assassination.  This  sense  of  danger  im- 
pressed me  with  either  a  miserable  timidity,  or  a  reckless, 
even  an  insolent,   intrepidity. 

By  degrees,  all  other  thoughts  were  merged  in  this  one, 
and  every  incident,  no  matter  how  trifling,  served  to 
strengthen  and  confirm  it.  Fortunately  for  my  reader,  I 
have  no  patience  to  trace  out  the  fancies  by  which  I  was 
haunted.  I  imagined  that  kings  and  emperors  were  in  vhe 
conspiracy  against  me,  and  that  cabinets  only  plotted  how 
to  entrap  me.  I  sold  the  last  remnant  of  my  wardrobe 
and  my  few  remaining  books,  and  quitted  my  dwelling,  to 
forsake  it  again  for  another,  after  a  few  days.  Grim  want 
was,  at  length,  before  me,  and  I  found  myself  one  morning 
—  it  was  a  cold  one  of  December  —  with  only  a  few  pence 
remaining.  It  chanced  to  be  one  of  my  days  of  calmer  tem- 
perament; for  some  previous  ones  I  had  been  in  a  state 
bordering  on  frenzy ;  and  now  the  reaction  had  left  me 
weak  and  depressed,  but  reasonable. 

I  went  over,  to  myself,  as  well  as  I  was  able,  all  my 
previous  life ;  I  tried  to  recall  the  names  of  the  few  with 
whom  my  fate  seemed  to  connect  me,  and  of  whose  where- 
abouts I  knew  nothing ;  I  canvassed  in  my  own  mind  how 
much  might  be  true  of  these  stories  which  I  used  to  hear 
of  my  birth  and  parentage,  and  whether  the  whole  might 
not  possibly  have  been  invented  to  conceal  some  darker 
history.  Such  doubts  had  possibly  not  assailed  me  in  other 
times ;  but  now,  with  broken  hopes  and  shattered  strength, 
they  took  a  bold  possession  of  me.  I  actually  possessed 
nothing  which  might  serve  to  confirm  my  pretension  to  sta- 
tion. Documents  or  papers  I  had  none ;  nor  was  there,  so 
far  as  I  knew,  a  living  witness  to  bear  testimony  to  my 
narrative.  In  pondering  thus  I  suddenly  remembered  that, 
in  the  letter  which  I  once  had  addressed  to  Mr.  Pitt,  were 
enclosed  some  few  memoranda  in  corroboration  of  my  story. 


THE  GLOOMIEST  PASSAGE  OF  ALL.      411 

What  they  were  exactly,  and  to  what  extent  they  went,  I 
could  not  recall  to  memory ;  but  it  was  enough  that  they 
were,  in  some  shape,  evidences  of  that  which  already  to  my 
own  mind  was  assuming  the  character  of  a  delusion. 

To  this  faint  chance  I  now  attached  myself  with  a  last 
effort  of  desperation.  Some  clew  might  possibly  be  found 
in  these  papers  to  guide  my  search,  and  my  whole  thoughts 
were  now  bent  upon  obtaining  them.  With  this  object  I 
sat  down  and  wrote  a  few  most  respectful  lines  to  the 
minister,  stating  the  nature  of  my  request,  and  humbly 
excusing  myself  for  the  intrusion  on  his  attention.  A  week 
passed  over,  —  a  week  of  almost  starvation,  —  and  yet  no 
reply  reached  me.  I  now  wrote  again  more  pressingly  than 
before,  adding  that  my  circumstances  did  not  admit  of 
delay,  and  that  if,  by  any  mischance,  the  papers  had  been 
lost  or  mislaid,  I  still  would  entreat  his  Excellency's  kind- 
ness to  —  I  believe  I  said  recall  what  he  could  remember  of 
these  documents,  and  thus  supply  the  void  left  by  their 
loss.  This  letter  shared  the  same  fate  as  my  former  one. 
I  wrote  a  third  time,  I  knew  not  in  what  terms,  for  I  wrote 
late  at  night,  after  a  day  of  mad  and  fevered  impatience. 
I  had  fasted  for  nigh  two  entire  days.  An  intense  thirst 
never  ceased  to  torture  me ;  and  as  I  wandered  wildly  here 
and  there,  my  state  alternated  between  fits  of  cold  shudder- 
ing, and  a  heat  that  seemed  to  be  burning  my  very  vitals. 
The  delusions  of  that  terrible  interval  were,  doubtless,  the 
precursors  of  actual  madness.  I  bethought  me  of  every  tor- 
ture I  had  ever  heard  of,  —  of  all  the  sufferings  martyrdom 
had  ever  borne,  but  to  which  death  came  at  last  as  the 
comforter ;  but  to  me  no  such  release  seemed  possible.  I 
felt  as  though  I  had  done  all  that  should  invoke  it.  "Want 
—  sickness  —  suffering — despair,  —  are  these  not  enough," 
I  asked  myself,  —  "must  guilt  and  self-murder  be  added  to 
the  terrible  list?"  And  it  was,  I  remember,  with  a  kind  of 
triumphant  pride  I  determined  Tigainst  this.  "  If  mankind 
reject  me,"  said  I,  —  "if  they  make  of  me  an  outcast  and 
a  victim,  on  them  shall  lie  all  the  shame  and  all  the  sin. 
Enough  for  me  the  misery,  —  I  will  not  have  the  infamy  of 
my  death  !  " 

I  have  said  I  wrote  a  third  letter ;  and  to  make  sure  of 


412  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

its  coming  to  hand,  I  walked  with  it  to  Hounslow.  The 
journey  occupied  rne  more  than  half  the  night,  for  it  was 
day  when  I  arrived.  I  delivered  it  into  the  hands  of  a 
servant,  and,  saying  that  I  should  wait  for  the  answer,  I 
sat  down  upon  a  stone  bench  beside  the  door.  Overcome 
with  fatigue,  and  utterly  exhausted,  I  fell  off  asleep,  —  a 
sound  and,  strange  to  say,  delicious  sleep,  with  calm  and 
pleasant  dreams.  From  this  I  was  aroused  by  a  somewhat 
rude  shake,  and  on  looking  up  saw  that  a  considerable 
number  of  persons  were  around  me. 

"  Stand  up,  my  good  fellow,"  cried  a  man,  who,  though 
in  plain  clothes  and  unarmed,  proclaimed  by  his  manner 
of  command  that  he  was  in  authority;  "stand  up,  if  you 
please." 

I  made  an  effort  to  obey,  but  sank  down  again  upon  the 
bench,  faint  and  exhausted. 

"  He  wants  a  drink  of  water,"  cried  one. 

"  He  wants  summut  to  eat,  — that 's  what  he  wants,"  said 
a  laboring  man  in  front  of  me. 

"We'll  take  him  where  he'll  be  properly  looked  after," 
said  the  first  speaker.  "Just  stand  back,  good  people, 
and  leave  me  to  deal  with  him."  The  crowd  retired  as  he 
spoke,  while,  coming  nearer,  he  bent  down  towards  me  and 
said,  "Is  your  name  Paul  Gervois?" 

"  I  have  gone  by  that  name,"  I  replied. 

"And  is  this  in  your  handwriting?  —  Mind,  you  needn't 
say  so  if  you  don't  like ;  I  only  ask  the  question  out  of 
curiosity." 

"Yes,"  said  I,  eagerly;  "what  does  Mr.  Pitt  say?  — 
what  reply  does  he  make  me  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  '11  hear  all  that  time  enough.  Just  try  now  if 
you  could  n't  come  along  with  me  as  far  as  the  road ;  I  've 
a  carriage  there  a-waiting." 

I  did  my  best  to  rise,  but  weakness  again  overcame  me, 
and  I  could  only  stammer  out  a  few  faint  words  of  excuse. 

"Don't  you  see  that  the  man  is  dying?"  said  some  one, 
half  indignantly  ;  but  the  constable  —  for  such  he  was  — 
made  some  rough  answer,  and  then,  stooping  down,  he 
passed  his  arm  round  me,  and  lifted  me  to  my  feet  at 
once.     As  he  half  carried,  half   pushed  me  along,  I  tried 


THE  GLOOMIEST  PASSAGE  OF  ALL.       413 

to  obtain  an  answer  to  my  former  question,  "  What  reply 
had  the  minister  made  me  ? " 

"You'll  know  all  that  time  enough,  my  good  friend," 
was  all  the  answer  I  could  obtaiu,  as,  assisting  me  into  the 
carriage,  he  took  his  place  at  my  side,  and  gave  the  word 
to  proceed  "to  town." 

Not  a  word  passed  between  us  as  we  Avent  along ;  for  my 
part,  I  was  too  indifferent  to  life  itself  to  care  whither  he 
was  couducting  me,  or  with  what  object.  As  well  as  utter 
listlessuess  would  permit  me  to  think,  I  surmised  that  I 
had  been  arrested.  Is  it  not  a  strange  confession,  that  I 
felt  a  sense  of  pleasure  in  the  thought  that  I  had  not  been 
utterly  forgotten  by  the  world,  and  that  my  existence  was 
recognized,  even  at  the  cost  of  an  accusation.  I  conclude 
that  to  understand  this  feeling  on  my  part,  one  must  have 
been  as  forlorn  and  desolate  as  I  was.  I  experienced 
neither  fear  nor  curiosity  as  to  what  might  be  the  charge 
against  me;  nor  was  my  indifference  that  of  conscious 
innocence,  —  it  was  pure  carelessness ! 

I  slept  that  night  in  a  prison,  and  ate  of  prison  fare,  — 
ravenously  and  eagerly  too ;  so  much  so  that  the  turnkey, 
compassionating  me,  fetched  me  some  of  his  own  supper  to 
satisfy  my  cravings.  I  awoke  the  next  day  with  a  gnawing 
sense  of  hunger,  intensely  painful,  far  more  so  than  my 
former  suffering  from  want.  That  day,  and  I  believe  the 
two  following  ones,  I  spent  in  durance,  and  at  last  was 
conveyed  in  the  prison-cart  to  the  office  of  a  magistrate. 

The  court  was  densely  crowded,  but  the  cases  called 
seemed  commonplace  and  uninteresting, — at  least  so  they 
appeared  to  me,  as  I  tried  in  vain  to  follow  them.  At 
length  the  crier  called  out  the  name  of  Paul  Gervois,  and 
it  was  less  the  words  than  the  directed  looks  of  the  vast 
assembly,  as  they  all  turned  towards  me,  showed  that  I  was 
the  representative  of  that  designation. 

My  sense  of  shame  at  this  moment  prevented  my  observ- 
ing accurately  what  went  forward;  but  I  soon  rallied,  and 
perceived  that  my  case  was  then  before  the  court,  and  my 
accuser  it  was  who  then  addressed  the  bench. 

The  effort  to  follow  the  speaker,  to  keep  up  with  the 
narrative  that  fell  from  his  lips,  was  indescribably  painful 


414  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

to  me.  I  can  compare  my  struggle  to  nothing  save  the 
endeavor  of  one  with  a  shattered  limb  to  keep  pace  with 
the  step  of  his  unwounded  comrades.  The  very  murmurs  of 
indignation  that  at  times  stirred  the  auditory,  increased  this 
feeling  to  a  kind  of  agony.  I  knew  that  it  was  all-impor- 
tant I  should  hear  and  clearly  understand  what  was  said, 
and  yet  my  faculties  were  unequal  to  the  effort. 

The  constable  who  arrested  me  came  forward  next,  and 
spoke  as  to  the  few  words  which  passed  between  us,  affirm- 
ing how  I  had  confessed  to  a  certain  letter  as  being  written 
by  myself,  and  that  I  alone  was  to  be  held  responsible  for 
its  contents.  When  he  left  the  table,  the  judge  called  on 
me  for  my  defence.  I  stared  vaguely  from  side  to  side, 
and  asked  to  what  charge? 

"  You  have  been  present,  prisoner,  during  the  whole  of 
this  examination,  and  have  distinctly  heard  the  allegation 
against  you,"  replied  he.  "The  charge  is  for  having  writ- 
ten a  threatening  letter  to  one  of  his  Majesty's  ministers  of 
state, —  a  letter  which  in  itself  constitutes  a  grave  offence, 
but  is  seriously  aggravated  as  being  part  of  a  long-pursued 
system  of  intimidation,  and  enforced  by  menaces  of  the 
most  extreme  violence." 

I  was  now  suddenly  recalled  to  a  clearness  of  compre- 
hension, and  able  to  follow  him  as  he  detailed  how  a  certain 
Mr.  Conway  —  the  private  secretary  of  the  minister  — 
proved  the  receipt  of  the  letter  in  question,  as  well  as  two 
others  in  the  same  hand.  The  last  of  these — which  con- 
stituted the  chief  allegation  against  me  —  was  then  read 
aloud ;  and  anything  more  abominable  and  detestable  it 
would  be  hard  to  conceive.  After  recapitulating  a  demand 
for  certain  documents,  —  so  vaguely  worded  as  to  seem  a 
mere  invented  and  trumped-up  request,  —  it  went  to  speak 
of  great  services  unrewarded,  and  honorable  zeal  not  only 
neglected  but  persecuted.  From  this  —  which  so  far  pos- 
sessed a  certain  degree  of  coherency  and  reason  —  it  sud- 
denly broke  off  into  the  wildest  and  most  savage  menaces. 
It  spoke  of  one  who  held  life  so  cheaply  that  he  felt  no 
sacrifice  in  offering  it  up  for  the  gratification  of  his 
vengeance. 

"Houseless,  friendless,  and  starving;  without  food,  with. 


THE   GLOOMIEST  PASSAGE   OF  ALL.  415 

out  a  name,  —  for  you  have  robbed  me  of  even  that, —  I  have 
crawled  to  your  door  to  aveuge  myself  and  die  !  " 

Such  were  the  last  words  of  this  epistle  ;  and  they  riug  in 
my  ears  even  yet,  with  shame  and  horror. 

"  I  never  uttered  such  sentiments  as  these, — words  like 
those  never  escaped  me !  "  cried  I,  in  an  agony  of  indig- 
nation. 

"  There  is  the  letter,"  said  the  magistrate  ;  "do  you  deny 
having  written  it?" 

"It  is  mine,  —  it  is  in  my  own  hand,"  muttered  I,  in  a 
voice  scarcely  audible ;  and  I  had  to  cling  to  the  dock  to 
save  myself  from  falling. 

Of  what  followed  I  know  nothing,  absolutely  nothing. 
There  seemed  to  be  a  short  debate  and  discussion  of  some 
kind ;  and  I  could  catch,  here  and  there,  some  chance  phrase 
or  word  that  sounded  compassionately  towards  me.  At 
last  I  heard  the  magistrate  say,  — 

"  If  you  tell  me,  Mr.  Conway,  that  Mr.  Pitt  does  not  wish 
to  press  the  charge,  nor  do  more  than  protect  himself  from 
future  molestation,  I  am  willing  to  admit  the  prisoner  to 
bail  —  good  and  sufficient  bail  —  for  his  conduct  hereafter. 
In  default  of  this,  however,  I  shall  feel  bound  to  commit 
him." 

Again  some  discussion  ensued,  terminated  by  some  one 
asking  me  if  I  could  produce  the  required  securities. 

By  this  time  a  slight  reaction  to  my  state  of  debility  had 
set  in,  —  that  fevered  condition  in  which  passion  assumed 
the  ascendant ;   and  I  answered,  haughtily,  — 

"Bail  for  whom?  Is  it  for  him  to  whom  they  refused 
bread  that  they  will  go  surety?  Look  at  these  rags,  sir, — 
bee  these  wasted  arms,  —  hear  this  voice,  hoarse  as  it  is  with 
hunger,  —  and  ask  yourself  who  could  pledge  himself  for 
such  misery  ?  " 

He  uttered  some  commonplaces  —  at  least  so  they  sounded 
to  me  —  about  there  being  no  necessary  connection  between 
want  and  crime ;  but  I  stopped  him  short,  saying,  — 

"  Then  you  have  never  fasted,  sir,  —  never  known  what  it 
was  to  struggle  against  the  terrible  temptations  that  arise  in 
a  famished  heart;  to  sink  down  upon  a  bed  of  straw,  and 
think  of   the  thousands  at   that   moment  in    aflluence,  and 


416  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

think  of  them  with  hate !  No  link  between  want  and  crime ! 
None,  for  they  are  one.  Want  is  envy  —  want  is  malice. 
Its  evil  counsellors  are  everywhere,  —  in  the  plash  of  the 
wave  at  midnight;  in  the  rustle  of  the  leaves  in  a  dark 
wood ;  in  the  chamber  of  the  sick  man :  wherever  guilt  can 
come,  a  whispering  voice  will  say,  '  Be  there ! ' " 

Some  friendly  bystander  here  counselled  me  to  calm 
myself,  and  not  aggravate  my  position  by  words  of  angry 
impatience.  The  air  of  sympathy  touched  me,  and  I  said 
no  more. 

I  was  committed  to  prison — remanded,  I  believe  they 
said  —  to  be  called  up  at  some  future  day,  when  further 
inquiries  had  been  made  into  my  mode  of  life  and  habits. 
The  sentence  —  so  well  as  I  could  understand  it  —  was  not 
a  severe  one,  —  imprisonment  without  labor  or  any  other 
penalty.  I  was  told  that  I  had  reason  to  be  grateful !  but 
gratitude  was  then  at  a  low  ebb  within  me;  for  whatever 
moralists  may  say,  it  is  an  emotion  that  never  thrives  on 
misery.  As  I  was  led  away,  I  overheard  some  comments 
that  were  passed  upon  me.  One  called  me  mad,  and  pitied 
me ;  auother  said  I  was  a  practised  impostor,  far  too  leni- 
ently dealt  with ;  a  third  classed  me  with  the  vile  herd  of 
those  who  live  by  secret  crimes,  and  hoped  for  some  strin- 
gent act  against  such  criminals. 

There  was  not  one  to  ask,  Why  has  he  done  this  thing? 
and  how  shall  others  be  saved  from  his  example? 

They  who  followed  me  with  looks  of  contempt  and  aversion 
never  guessed  that  the  prison  was  to  me  a  grateful  home ; 
that  if  the  strong  door  shut  out  liberty,  it  excluded  starva- 
tion too ;  and  that  if  I  could  not  stray  at  will  through  the 
green  lanes,  yet  my  footsteps  never  bore  me  to  the  darksome 
pond  where  the  black  depth  whispered  —  oblivion ! 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

THE    STREETS. 

I  was  liberated  from  prison  at  the  end  of  eight  days.  I 
begged  hard  to  be  allowed  to  remain  there,  but  was  not  per- 
mitted. This  interval,  short  as  it  was,  had  done  much  to 
recruit  my  strength  and  rally  my  faculties ;  it  served  besides 
to  instil  into  me  a  calm  and  patient  resolve  to  depend  solely 
on  myself;  and  effacing,  so  far  as  I  might,  all  hopes  of 
tracing  out  my  family,  I  determined  now  to  deem  no  labor 
too  humble  by  which  I  might  earn  a  livelihood. 

I  am  now  speaking  of  fifty  years  ago,  and  the  world  has 
made  rapid  strides  since  that.  The  growing  necessities  of 
our  great  population,  and  the  wide  field  for  enterprise  offered 
by  our  colonies,  have  combined  to  produce  a  social  revolution 
few  could  have  predicted  once.  The  well-born  and  the  ten- 
derlv-nurtured  have  now  gone  forth  in  thousands  to  try  their 
fortunes  in  far-away  lands,  to  brave  hardships  and  encounter 
toil  that  the  hard  sons  of  labor  themselves  are  fain  to  shrink 
from ;  but  at  the  time  I  speak  of,  this  bold  spirit  had  not 
burst  into  life,  —  the  world  was  insolent  in  its  prosperity,  and 
never  dreamed  of  a  reverse. 

By  transcribing  letters  and  papers  for  one  of  the  officials 
while  in  jail,  I  had  earned  four  shillings ;  and  with  this  sum, 
my  all  in  the  world,  I  now  found  myself  following  the  flood- 
tide  of  that  host  which  moves  daily  along  the  Strand  in 
London.  I  had  breakfasted  heartily  before  I  left  the  prison, 
and  resolving  to  hoard  up  my  little  treasure,  determined  to 
eat  nothing  more  on  that  day.  As  I  walked  along  I  felt  that 
the  air,  sharp  and  frosty  as  it  was,  excited  and  invigorated 
me.  The  bright  bine  sky  overhead,  the  clear  outline  of  every 
object,  the  brisk  stir  and  movement  of  the  population,  all 
heiped  to  cheer  my  spirits,  and  I  experienced  a  sense  of  free- 


418  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

dom,  as  that  of  one  who,  having  thrown  off  a  long-carried 
burden,  is  at  last  free  to  walk  unencumbered.  A  few  hours 
before  I  fancied  I  could  have  been  well  satisfied  to  wear  out 
life  within  the  walls  of  my  prison,  but  now  I  felt  that  liberty 
compensated  for  any  hardship.  The  town  on  that  morning 
presented  an  aspect  of  more  than  ordinary  stir  and  excite- 
ment. Men  were  at  work  in  front  of  all  the  houses,  on 
ladders  and  scaffoldings ;  huge  frameworks,  with  gaudy 
paintings,  were  being  hoisted  from  the  roofs,  and  signs  of 
wonderful  preparation  of  one  kind  or  other  were  everywhere 
visible.  I  stopped  to  inquire  the  meaning,  and  was  told,  not 
without  a  stare  of  surprise,  that  London  was  about  to  illu- 
minate in  joyful  commemoration  of  the  treaty  of  peace  just 
signed  with  France.  I  thanked  my  informant,  and  moved 
on.  Assuredly  there  were  few  in  either  country  who  had  less 
reason  to  be  interested  in  such  tidings  than  myself.  I  pos- 
sessed nothing,  not  even  a  nationality,  that  I  could  safely 
lay  claim  to.  In  the  hope  of  approaching  prosperity  to- 
morrow, so  forcibly  expressed  in  many  an  inscription,  —  in 
all  those  devices  of  enthusiastic  patriotism,  I  had  no  share. 
In  fact,  I  was  like  one  of  another  nation,  suddenly  dropped 
in  the  midst  of  a  busy  population,  whose  feelings,  hopes,  and 
aspirations  were  all  new  and  strange  to  me. 

As  I  came  up  to  Charing  Cross  a  dense  crowd  stopped  the 
way,  gazing  with  wondering  eyes  at  a  great  triumphal  arch 
which  spanned  the  thoroughfare,  and  whose  frail  timbers 
gave  but  a  sorry  intimation  of  the  splendor  it  should  exhibit 
after  nightfall.  Immense  draperies  floated  from  this  crazy 
framework,  and  vast  transparencies  displayed  in  tasteless 
allegory  the  blessings  of  a  peace.  The  enthusiasm  of  ad- 
miration was  high  among  the  spectators ;  doubtless,  the 
happy  occasion  itself  suggested  a  cordiality  of  approval  that 
the  preparations  themselves  did  not  warrant;  for  at  every 
step  in  the  construction,  a  hearty  cheer  would  burst  forth 
from  the  crowd,  in  recognition  of  the  success  of  the  work. 
My  attention,  undisturbed  by  such  emotions,  was  fixed  upon 
one  of  the  poles  of  the  scaffolding,  which,  thrown  consider- 
ably out  of  its  perpendicular,  swayed  and  bent  at  every  step 
that  approached  it,  and  threatened,  if  not  speedily  looked 
to,   to  occasion  some  disaster.     I  pointed  this  out  to  one 


THE   STREETS.  419 

beside  me,  who  as  quickly  communicated  it  to  another,  and 
in  less  than  a  minute  after,  a  panic  cry  was  raised  that  the 
scaffold  was  falling.  The  crowd  fell  back  in  terror,  while 
the  men  upon  the  scaffolding,  not  knowing  in  what  quarter 
the  danger  existed,  stood  in  terrified  groups,  or  madly 
rushed  to  the  ladders  to  escape.  The  mad  shouts  and 
screams  of  those  beneath  added  to  the  confusion,  and  ren- 
dered it  impossible  to  convey  warning  to  those  in  peril.  At 
this  instant  a  man  was  seen  approaching  the  weak  part  of 
the  scaffold,  and  though  at  every  step  he  took,  the  ill-fated 
pole  swerved  further  and  further  from  the  right  line,  he  was 
utterly  unconscious  of  his  danger,  and  seemed  only  bent  on 
gaining  a  rope,  which,  fastened  by  one  end  above,  hung 
down  to  the  porch  beneath.  Wild  cries  and  yells  were  raised 
to  warn  him  of  his  peril,  but,  not  heeding,  nor,  perhaps, 
hearing  them,  he  seized  the  cord  and  swung  himself  free  of 
the  scaffold. 

In  an  instant  the  fabric  gave  way.  and,  bending  over, 
came  down  with  a  terrible  crash  of  falling  beams  and  spliu- 
tered  timber.  It  fell  so  close  to  where  I  stood  that  it  struck 
down  an  old  man  with  whom  I  had  been  conversing  the 
moment  before.  Strangely  too,  amidst  that  dense  throng, 
this  was  the  only  serious  injury  inflicted  ;  but  lie  was  struck 
dead,  — at  least,  he  only  lingered  for  the  few  minutes  it  took 
to  carry  him  to  a  neighboring  public-house,  where  he  expired. 

"It's  old  Harry;  he  always  said  he'd  die  at  his  cross- 
ing," said  the  publican,  as  he  recognized  the  features. 

"He  thought  it  was  them  new-fashioned  curricles  would 
do  for  him,  though,"  said  another.  "  He  said  so  to  me  last 
week,  for  he  was  getting  too  old  to  escape  when  he  saw  them 
coming." 

"Old!  I  should  think  he  was.  He  was  on  that  there 
crossing  at  the  coronation,  —  a  matter  of  fifty  years  ago." 

"Say  forty,  my  good  friend,  and  you'll  be  nigher  the 
mark  ;  but  even  forty  sufficed  to  leave  him  well  off  for  the 
rest  of  his  days,  if  he  had  bul  had  prudence  to  know  it." 

As  I  stood  thus  listening,  I  leaned  upon  the  broom  which 
I  had  taken  from  the  old  man's  hand  when  I  lifted  him  up. 

"  I  '11  give  you  a  matter  of  ten  pounds  for  it,  master,"  said 
a  gruff-looking  fellow,  addressing  me,  while  he  touched  the 


420  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

broom  with  his  knuckle.  "  Five  down  on  tbe  nail,  and  tbe 
rest  ten  shillings  a-week.  Do  you  say  done  ?  "  Before  I 
could  collect  myself  to  understand  what  this  offer  might 
mean,  a  dozen  others  were  crowding  around  me  with  a 
number  of  similar  proposals. 

"  You  don't  know  the  rule  amongst  these  fellows,"  said 
the  landlord,  addressing  me;  "  but  it  is  this,  that  whoever 
touches  the  broom  first  after  its  owner  is  killed,  succeeds  to 
the  crossing.  It 's  yours  now,  to  work  or  dispose  of,  as  you 
like  best." 

"  He  '11  never  work  it,  —  he  does  n't  know  the  town,"  said 
one. 

"He'd  not  know  Charley  Fox  from  Big  Hullescoat  the 
tailor." 

"  He 'd  splash  Colonel  Hanyer,  and  sweep  clean  for  the 
Duke  of  Queensberry." 

"  And  forget  to  have  change  for  Lord  Bute,"  cried 
another,  —  a  sally  so  generally  applauded  that  it  showed  a 
full  appreciation  of  its  truthfulness. 

"I'll  try  it,  nevertheless,  gentlemen,"  said  I,  addressing 
the  company  respectfully;  "and  if  the  landlord  will  only 
give  me  credit  for  half-a-guinea's  worth  of  liquor,  we  '11 
drink  my  accession  to  office  at  once." 

This  was  agreeably  received  by  all,  even  the  landlord, 
who  ushered  us  into  an  inner  room  to  enjoy  ourselves. 

If  I  had  not  transgressed  too  freely  already  on  my 
reader's  patience  by  details  which  have  no  immediate  bear- 
ing on  my  own  life,  I  should  have  been  greatly  tempted 
to  revive  some  recollections  of  that  evening,  —  one  of  the 
strangest  I  ever  passed.  Assuredly  the  guild  of  which  I 
suddenly  found  myself  a  member  was  not  one  in  which  I 
could  have  either  expected  laws  and  regulations,  or  looked 
for  anything  like  a  rigid  etiquette ;  yet  such  was  precisely 
the  case.  The  rules,  if  not  many,  were  imperative,  while 
the  requirements  to  obtain  success  were  considerable.  It 
was  not  enough  to  know  every  remarkable  character  about 
town,  but  you  should  also  have  a  knowledge  of  their  tone 
and  temper.  Some  should  be  dunned  with  importunity; 
others  never  asked  for  a  farthing ;  a  Scotch  accent  went 
far  with  General   Dundas ;    a   jest   never   failed   with   Mr. 


THE   STREETS.  421 

Sheridan.  Besides  this,  an  unfailing  memory  for  every  one 
who  had  crossed  daring  the  day  was  indispensable,  and  if 
this  gift  extended  to  chairs  and  coaches,  all  the  better 
was  it. 

My  brethren,  I  must  do  them  the  justice  to  say,  were  no 
niggards  of  information.  To  me,  perhaps,  they  felt  a  sense 
of  exultation  in  describing  the  dignity  of  the  craft,  —  per- 
haps they  hoped  to  deter  me  from  a  career  so  surrounded 
with  difficulties.  They  little  knew  that  they  were  only 
stimulating  the  curiosity  of  one  to  whom  any  object  or  any 
direction  in  life  was  a  boon  and  a  blessing.  Hardship  and 
neglect  had  so  far  altered  my  appearance  that,  even  had  I 
cared  for  it,  any  artificial  disguisement  was  unnecessary. 
My  beard  and  moustache  covered  the  lower  part  of  my 
face,  and  my  hah-,  long  and  lank,  hung  heavily  on  my  neck 
behind.  But,  were  it  otherwise,  how  few  had  ever  known 
me  !  There  were  none  to  blush  for  me,  —  none  to  feel  im- 
plicated in  what  they  might  have  called  the  disgrace  of  my 
position.  I  reasoned  thus,  —  I  went  even  further,  and  per- 
suaded myself  there  was  something  akin  to  heroism  in  thus 
braving  the  current  of  opinion,  and  stemming  the  strong 
tide  of  the  world's  prejudice.  If  this  be  my  fitting  station 
in  life,  thought  I,  there  is  no  impropriety  in  my  abiding  by 
it ;  and  if,  perchance,  I  might  have  worthily  filled  a  higher 
one,  the  disgrace  is  not  with  me,  but  with  that  world  that 
treated  me  so  harshly. 

Though  all  these  arguments  satisfied  me  thoroughly  as  I 
thought  over  them,  they  did  not  give  me  the  support  I 
had  hoped  for.  "When  the  hour  came  for  me  to  assume 
my  calling,  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  say  how  I  shrunk  from 
it.  I  grieve  to  think  how  much  more  easy  for  me  had  it 
been  to  commit  a  crime  than  to  go  forth,  broom  in  hand. 
and  earn  my  livelihood  !  But  I  was  determined  to  go  on, 
and  I  did  so.  The  first  week  or  so  was  absolute  misery  ; 
I  scarcely  dared  to  look  any  one  in  the  face.  If  perchance 
I  caught  an  eye  fixed  upon  me,  I  imagined  I  was  recog- 
nized. I  dreaded  to  utter  a  word,  lest  my  voice  might  be- 
tray me.  I  was  repeatedly  questioned  about  old  Harry, 
and  what  had  become  of  him;  and  I  could  see,  thai  with 
all  my  attempts  at  disguise,  my  accent  attracted  attention, 


422  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

and  men  looked  at  me  with  curiosity,  and  even  suspicion. 
Is  it  not  strange  that  there  should  be  more  real  awkward- 
ness in  maiutaining  a  station  that  one  deems  below  him 
than  in  the  assumption  of  a  rauk  as  unquestionably  above 
his  own?  Perhaps  our  self-love  is  the  cause  of  it,  and  that, 
in  our  estimate  of  our  own  natures,  we  think  nothing  too 
great  or  too  exalted  for  us. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  my  struggles  were  very  painful ;  and, 
far  from  conforming  easily  to  the  exigencies  of  my  lot,  each 
day's  experience  rendered  them  still  harder  to  me.  Two 
entire  days  passed  over  without  my  having  received  a 
farthing.  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  ask  for  payment, 
and  the  crowd  passed  on,  unheediug  me.  Some  who  seemed 
prepared  with  the  accustomed  mite  replaced  it  in  their 
pockets  when  they  saw  what  seemed  my  indifference.  One 
young  fellow  threw  me  a  penny  as  he  went,  but  I  could  not 
have  stooped  for  it  had  my  life  been  on  the  issue.  What 
a  wonderful  thing  is  fortune !  —  or  rather,  how  rarely  can 
we  plot  for  ourselves  any  combination  of  circumstances  so 
successful  as  those  that  arise  from  what  we  deem  acci- 
dent! These  that  seemed  evidences  of  failure  were  the 
first  promises  of  prosperity.  My  comrades  had  given  me 
the  nickname  of  "  Gentleman  Jack."  The  sobriquet  at- 
tracted notice  to  me  and  to  my  habit  of  never  making  a 
demand;  and  long  ere  I  came  to  learn  the  cause,  I  found 
myself  deriving  all  the  advantage  of  it.  Few  now  went 
by  without  paying;  many  gave  me  silver,  some  even  ac- 
companying the  gift  with  a  passing  salutation,  or  a  word 
of  recognition.  Slight  as  these  were,  and  insignificant,  they 
were  far  more  precious  to  me  than  any  praises  I  have  ever 
listened  to  in  my  days  of  prosperity ! 

I  gradually  came  to  know  all  the  celebrities  of  the  town, 
and  be  myself  known  by  them.  How  like  a  dream  does  it 
seem  to  me,  as  I  think  over  those  days !  "When  Alderman 
Whitbread  would  give  me  a  shilling,  and  Wilkes  borrow  a 
crown  of  me ;  when  Colonel  O'Kelly  would  pay  me  with  a 
wink,  and  Sir  Philip  Francis  with  a  curse ;  when  Baron  Ge- 
ramb,  frizzed,  moustached,  and  decorated,  lounged  lazily 
along  on  the  arm  of  Admiral  Payne,  followed  by  a  gorgeously- 
equipped  chasseur,  —  a  rare  sight  in  those  days !      Nor  is  it 


THE   STREETS.  423 

altogether  an  old  man's  prejudice  makes  me  think  that  the 
leaders  of  fashion  in  those  times  had  more  unmistakably 
the  sigus  of  being  Grand  Seigneurs  than  the  men  of  our 
own  day. 

I  have  said  that  the  tide  of  fortune  had  turned  with  me, 
and  to  an  extent  scarcely  credible.  Many  days  saw  my 
gains  above  a  guinea ;  once  or  twice  they  more  than  doubled 
that  amount.  I  have  frequently  read  in  newspapers  an- 
nouncements of  the  fortunes  accumulated  by  men  in  the 
very  humblest  stations,  —  statements  which,  with  less  expe- 
rience than  my  own,  I  might  have  hesitated  to  believe ;  but 
now  I  know  them  to  be  credible.  I  know,  too,  that  many 
of  the  donors  who  contemptuously  threw  their  penny  as  they 
passed  were  far  poorer  than  the  recipient  of  their  bounty. 

If  time  did  not  reconcile  me  to  my  lot,  yet  a  certain  har- 
dihood to  brave  destiny  in  any  shape  fortified  me.  I 
reasoned  repeatedly  with  myself  on  this  wise :  Fate  can 
scarcely  have  anything  lower  in  store  for  me ;  from  this 
there  can  be  no  descent  in  fortune.  If,  then,  I  can  here 
maintain  within  me  the  feelings  which  moved  me  in  happier 
days,  and  live  unchanged  in  the  midst  of  what  might  have 
been  degradation,  there  is  yet  a  hope  that  I  may  emerge  to 
hold  a  worthy  station  among  my  fellow-men. 

I  will  not  affirm  that  this  feeling  was  not  heightened  by 
an  almost  resentful  sense  of  the  world's  treatment  of  me, — 
a  feeling  which,  combat  how  I  would,  hourly  gained  more 
and  more  possession  of  me.  To  struggle  against  this  grow- 
ing misanthropy,  I  formed  the  resolve  that  I  would  devote 
all  my  earnings  of  each  Sunday  to  charity.  It  was  but  too 
easy,  in  my  walk  of  life,  for  me  to  know  objects  of  want 
and  suffering.  The  little  close  in  which  I  lived  —  near 
Seven  Dials  —  was  filled  with  such;  and  amongst  them  I 
now  dispensed  the  seventh  of  my  gains,  —  in  reality  far  more, 
since  Sunday  almost  equalled  two  entire  days  in  profit. 
Thus  did  I  vacillate  betwixt  good  and  evil  influences,  —  now 
yielding,  now  resisting, — but  always  gainiug  some  little 
advantage  over  selfishness  and  narrow-mindedness,  by  the 
training  of  that  best  of  teachers,  —  adversity.  How  my 
trials  might  have  ended,  had  the  course  of  my  life  gone 
on  uninterruptedly,  I  cannot  even  guess.     Whether  the  bad 


424  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

might  have  gained  the  ascendant,  or  the  good  triumphed,  I 
know  not.  An  incident,  too  slight  to  advert  to,  save  in  its 
influence  upon  my  fate,  suddenly  gave  another  direction  to 
my  destiny ;  and  though,  as  I  have  said,  in  itself  a  mere 
trifle,  yet  for  its  singularity,  as  well  as  in  its  consequences, 
requires  a  mention,  and  shall  have  —  albeit  a  short  one  —  a 
chapter  of  its  own. 

The  incident  I  am  about  to  relate  has  not  —  at  least  so 
far  as  I  know  —  ever  been  made  public.  Up  to  three  years 
ago  I  could  have  called  a  witness  to  its  truth ;  but  I  am 
now  the  only  survivor  of  those  who  once  could  have  corrob- 
orated my  tale.  Still,  I  am  not  without  hope  that  there  are 
some  living  who,  having  heard  the  circumstances  before, 
will  generously  exonerate  me  from  any  imputation  of  being 
the  inventor. 

This  preface  may  excite  in  my  reader  the  false  expecta- 
tion of  something  deeply  interesting ;  and  I  at  once  and 
most  explicitly  own  that  I  have  none  such  in  store  for  him. 
It  is,  I  repeat  for  the  third  time,  an  incident  only  curious 
frorn  those  engaged  in  it,  and  only  claiming  a  mention  in 
such  a  history  as  mine. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

A    STRANGE    INCIDENT   TO    BE   A   TRUE   ONE. 

It  was  on  one  of  the  coldest  of  a  cold  December  days, 
when  a  dry  north  wind,  with  a  blackish  sky,  portended  the 
approach  of  a  heavy  snow-storm,  that  I  was  standing  at  my 
usual  post,  with  little  to  occupy  me,  for  the  weather  for 
some  time  previous  had  been  dry  and  frosty.  Habit,  and 
the  security  that  none  could  recognize  me,  had  at  length 
inured  me  to  my  condition ;  and  I  was  beginning  to  feel  the 
same  indifference  about  my  station  that  I  felt  as  to  my 
future. 

Pride  ma}',  in  reality,  have  had  much  to  say  to  this,  for  I 
was  proud  to  think  that  of  the  thousands  who  flowed  past 
me  each  day  I  could  claim  equality  with  a  large  share,  and 
perhaps  more  than  equality  with  many.  This  pride,  too, 
was  somehow  fostered  by  a  sense  of  hope  which  I  could 
have  scarcely  credited ;  for  there  constantly  occurred  to  me 
the  thought  that  one  day  or  other  I  should  be  able  to  say : 
"  Yes,  my  Lord  Duke,  I  have  known  you  these  twenty  years. 
I  remember  having  swept  the  crossing  for  you  in  the  autumn 
after  the  Peace.  Ay,  ay,  Right  Honorable  Sir,  I  owe  you 
my  gratitude,  if  only  for  this  that  you  never  passed  me 
without  saying,  '  Good  day,  Jack  ! '  " 

Was  it  not  strange,  too,  how  fondly  I  clung  to,  what 
importance  I  attached  to,  these  little  passing  recognitions; 
they  seemed  to  me  the  last  remaining  ties  that  bound  me  to 
my  fellow-men,  and  that  to  deny  them  to  me  was  to  declare 
me  an  outcast  forever.  To  this  hour  I  feel  my  thankfulness 
to  those  who  thus  acknowledged  me ;  nor  can  I  even  yet 
conquer  an  unforgiving  memory  of  some  chance,  mayhap 
unintentional,  rudeness  which,  as  it  were,  seemed  to  stamp 
my  degradation  more  deeply  upon  me.     Stranger  still  that 


426  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

I  must  own  how  my  political  bias  was  decided  by  these 
accidental  causes ;  for  while  the  great  Tory  leaders  rarely 
or  never  noticed  me,  the  Whigs  —  a  younger  and  more 
joyous  section  in  those  times  —  always  flung  me  a  passing 
word,  and  would  even  occasionally  condescend  to  listen  to 
my  repartee. 

I  must  guard  myself  from  giving  way  to  the  memories 
which  are  already  crowding  fast  about  me.  Names,  and 
characters,  and  events  rise  up  before  my  mind  in  myri- 
ads, and  it  is  with  difficulty  I  can  refrain  from  embarking 
on  that  flood  of  the  past  which  now  sweeps  along  through 
my  braiu.  The  great,  the  high-born,  the  beautiful,  the 
gifted,  all  dust  and  ashes  now !  —  they  who  once  filled  the 
whole  page  of  each  day's  history  utterly  ignored  and  for- 
gotten !  It  is  scarcely  more  than  fifty  years  ago  ;  and  yet  of 
all  the  eloquence  that  shook  the  "  House,"  of  all  the  fascina- 
tions that  stirred  the  hearts  of  princes,  of  the  high  ambitions 
that  made  men  demigods  in  their  time,  how  much  have 
reached  us?  Nothing,  or  less  than  nothing.  A  jest  or  a 
witticism  that  must  be  read  with  a  commentary,  or  told  with 
an  explanation,  — the  repartee  that  set  the  table  in  a  roar, 
now  heard  with  a  cold,  half-contemptuous  astonishment,  or 
a  vacant  inquiry  "  if  such  were  really  the  wits  of  those 
times." 

Amongst  those  with  whose  appearance  I  had  become 
familiar  were  three  young  men  of  very  fashionable  exterior, 
who  always  were  seen  together.  They  displayed,  by  the 
dress  of  blue  coat  and  buff  waistcoat,  the  distinctive  colors 
of  the  Whigs ;  but  their  buttons  more  emphatically  declared 
their  party  in  the  letters  P.  F.,  by  which  the  friends  of  the 
Prince  then  loved  to  designate  themselves.  The  "  Bucks  " 
of  that  age  had  one  enormous  advantage  over  the  Dandies 
of  ours,  —  they  had  no  imitators.  They  stood  alone  and 
unapproachable  in  all  the  glories  of  tight  leathers  and  low 
top-boots.  No  spurious  copies  of  them  got  currency ;  and 
the  man  of  fashion  was  unmistakable  amongst  a  thousand. 
The  three  of  whom  I  have  made  mention  were  good  speci- 
mens of  that  school,  which  dated  its  birth  from  the  early 
years  of  the  Prince,  and  by  their  habits  and  tone  imparted  a 
distinctive  character  to  the  party.     They  dressed  well,  they 


A  STRANGE  INCIDENT  TO  BE  A  TRUE  ONE.   427 

looked  -well,  they  comported  themselves  as  though  life  went 
ever  pleasantly  with  them  ;  and  in  their  joyous  air  and  easy 
bearing  one  might  read  the  traits  of  a  set  well  adapted  to  be 
the  friends  and  companions  of  a  young  prince,  himself 
passionately  devoted  to  pleasure,  and  reckless  in  regard  to 
its  price. 

I  am  now  speaking  of  long  ago,  and  have  no  hesitation  in 
giving  the  real  names  of  those  to  whom  I  allude.  One  was  a 
captain  in  the  navy,  called  Payne ;  the  second  was  a  young 
colonel  in  the  foot-guards,  Conway ;  and  the  third  was  an 
Irishman  named  O'Kelly,  whom  they  called  the  Count  or 
the  Chevalier,  about  town,  from  what  cause  or  with  what 
pretension  I  never  ascertained. 

Even  in  my  own  narrow  sphere  of  observation  it  was  clear 
to  me  that  this  last  exercised  a  great  influence  over  his  com- 
panions. The  tone  of  his  voice,  his  air,  his  every  gesture, 
bespoke  a  certain  degree  of  dictation,  to  which  the  others 
seemed  to  lend  a  willing  obedience.  It  was  just  that  amount 
of  superiority  which  a  greater  buoyancy  of  character  confers, 
—  a  higher  grade  of  vitality  some  would  call  it, —  but  which 
never  fails  through  life  to  make  itself  felt  and  acknowl- 
edged. The  three  kept  a  bachelor  house  at  Kensington, 
whose  fame  ran  a  close  rivalry  witb  that  of  the  more  cele- 
brated Carlton  House.  O'Kelly  lived  below,  Conway  oc- 
cupied the  drawing-room  story,  and  Payne  the  third  floor ; 
and  with  one  or  other  of  these  all  the  great  characters  of 
the  Opposition  were  constant  guests.  Here,  amidst  bril- 
liant sallies  of  wit  and  loud  bursts  of  laughter,  the  tactics 
of  party  were  planned  and  conned  over.  While  songs  went 
round  and  toasts  were  cheered,  the  subtle  schemes  of  poli- 
tics were  discussed  and  determined  on  ;  and  many  a  sudden 
diversion  of  debate  that  seemed  the  accident  of  the  moment 
took  its  origin  in  some  suggestion  that  arose  in  these  wild 
orgies.  The  Prince  himself  was  a  frequent  guest,  since  the 
character  of  these  meetings  allowed  of  many  persons  being 
admitted  to  his  society  whose  birth  and  position  might  not 
have  warranted  their  being  received  at  his  own  table;  and 
hei*e  also  were  many  presented  to  him  whose  station  could 
not  have  claimed  a  more  formal  introduction. 

It  was  rumored  that  these  same  meetings  were  wild  and 


428  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

desperate  orgies,  in  which  every  outrage  on  morality  was 
practised,  and  that  the  spirit  of  libertinism  raged  without 
control  or  hindrance.  I  have  not  of  myself  any  means  of 
judging  how  far  this  statement  might  be  correct,  but  I 
rather  incline  to  believe  it  one  of  those  calumnies  which  are 
so  constantly  levelled  at  any  society  which  assumes  to  itself 
exclusiveness  and  secrecy.  They  who  were  admitted  there 
assuredly  were  not  given  to  divulge  what  they  saw,  and  this 
very  reserve  must  have  provoked  its  interpretation. 

A  truce  to  these  speculations ;  and  now  back  to  my  story. 
I  was  standing  listlessly  on  the  edge  of  the  flag-way,  while 
a  long  funeral  procession  was  passing.  The  dreary  day 
and  drearier  object  seemed  to  harmonize  well  together. 
The  wheels  of  the  mourning-coaches  grated  sorrowfully  on 
the  half -frozen  ground,  and  the  leaden  canopy  of  sky  ap- 
peared a  suitable  covering  to  the  melancholy  picture.  My 
thoughts  were  of  the  very  saddest,  when  suddenly  a  merry 
burst  of  laughing  voices  broke  in  upon  my  ear ;  and  without 
turning  my  head,  I  recognized  the  three  young  men  of  whom 
I  have  just  spoken,  as  standing  close  behind  me. 

Some  jocular  allusion  to  the  slow  march  of  the  procession 
had  set  them  a-laughing ;  and  O' Kelly  said,  — 

"  Talk  as  men  will  about  the  ills  of  life,  see  how  tardily 
they  move  out  of  it." 

"  That  comes  of  not  knowing  the  road  before  them,"  cried 
Payne. 

"  Egad!  they  might  remember,  though,  that  it  is  a  well- 
worn  highway  by  this  time,"  chimed  in  Conway ;  "  and  now 
that  poor  Dick  has  gone  it,  who  's  to  fill  his  place?  " 

"No  very  hard  matter,"  said  O'Kelly.  "Take  every 
tenth  fellow  you  '11  meet  from  this  to  Temple  Bar,  and  you  '11 
have  about  the  same  kind  of  intelligence  Harvey  had.  You 
gave  him  credit  for  knowing  everything,  whereas  his  real 
quality  was  knowing  everybody." 

"  For  that  matter,  so  does  Jack  here,"  cried  Conway. 

"And  capital  company  he'd  be,  too,  I've  no  doubt," 
added  Payne. 

A  moment  of  whispering  conversation  ensued,  and 
O'Kelly  said,  half  aloud,  — 

"  I  '11  lay  five  hundred  on  it !  " 


/./,■,,/,>,         .    %24C&€&0O2Z' 


A  STRANGE  INCIDENT  TO  BE   A   TRUE   ONE.       429 

"  By  Jove !  I  '11  have  no  hand  in  it,"  said  Conway. 

"  Nor  I  neither,"  chimed  in  Payne. 

"Courageous  allies  both," said  O'Kelly,  laughing.  "  Hap- 
pily I  need  not  such  aid,  —  I  '11  do  it  myself.  I  only  ask  you 
not  to  betray  me." 

Without  heeding  the  protestations  they  both  poured  forth, 
O'Kelly  stepped  forward  and  whispered  in  my  ear,  — 

"  Will  you  diue  with  me  to-morrow,  Jack?" 

I  stared  at  him  in  silent  astonishment,  and  he  went  on : 

"  I  have  a  wager  on  it;  and  if  I  win,  you  shall  have  five 
guineas  for  your  share ;  and,  to  show  you  my  confidence  of 
success,  I  pay  beforehand." 

He  opened  his  purse  as  he  spoke ;  but  I  stopped  him 
suddenly  with,  — 

"No  need  of  that,  sir;  I  accept  your  invitation.  The 
honor  alone  is  enough  for  me." 

"  But  you  must  have  a  coat,  Jack,  and  ruffles,  man." 

"I'll  not  disgrace  you,  sir, —  at  least,  so  far  as  appearance 
goes,"  said  I. 

He  stared  at  me  for  a  second  or  two,  and  then  said,  — 

"By  Jove!  I  was  certain  of  it.  Well,  seven  o'clock  is 
the  hour.     Kensington,  —  every  one  knows  the  Bird  Cage." 

I  touched  my  cap  and  bowed.  He  gravely  returned 
my  salute,  and  walked  on  between  his  friends,  whose  loud 
laughter  continued  to  ring  out  for  a  long  way  down  the 
street. 

My  first  impressions  were,  I  own,  the  reverse  of  agreeable, 
and  I  felt  heart-sick  with  shame  for  having  accepted  the 
invitation.  The  very  burst  of  laughter  told  me  in  what 
point  of  view  they  regarded  the  whole  incident.  I  was, 
doubtless,  to  be  the  ignoble  instrument  of  some  practical 
joke.  At  first  I  tortured  my  ingenuity  to  think  how  I 
could  revenge  myself  for  the  indignity;  but  I  suddenly 
remembered  that  I  had  made  myself  a  willing  party  to 
the  scheme,  whatever  it  might  be.  I  had  agreed  to  avail 
myself  of  the  invitation,  and  should,  therefore,  accept  its 
consequences. 

With  what  harassing  doubts  did  I  rack  my  suffering 
brain !  At  one  time,  frenzied  with  the  idea  of  an  insult 
passed  upon   my  wretchedness  and   poverty ;    at   another, 


430  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

casuistically  arguing  myself  into  the  belief  that,  whatever 
the  offence  to  others,  to  me  there  could  be  none  intended. 
But  why  revive  the  memory  of  a  conflict  which  impressed 
me  with  all  the  ignominy  of  my  station,  and  made  me  feel 
myself,  as  it  were,  selected  for  an  affront  that  could  not 
with  impunity  have  been  practised  towards  another? 

I  decided  not  to  go,  and  then  just  as  firmly  determined  I 
would  present  myself.  My  last  resolve  was  to  keep  my 
promise,  to  attend  the  dinner-party ;  to  accept,  as  it  were 
in  the  fullest  sense,  the  equality  tendered  to  me ;  and,  if  I 
could  detect  the  smallest  insult,  or  even  a  liberty  taken  with 
me,  to  claim  my  right  to  resent  it,  by  virtue  of  the  act  which 
admitted  me  to  their  society,  and  made  me  for  the  time  their 
companion.  I  am  not  quite  sure  that  such  conduct  was  very 
justifiable.  I  half  suspect  that  the  easier  and  the  better 
course  would  have  been  to  avoid  a  situation  in  which  there 
was  nothing  to  be  anticipated  but  annoyance  or  difficulty. 

My  mind  once  made  up,  I  hastened  to  prepare  for  the 
event,  by  immediately  ordering  a  handsome  dress-suit. 
Carefully  avoiding  what  might  be  deemed  the  impertinence 
of  assuming  the  colors  of  party,  I  selected  a  claret-colored 
coat,  with  steel  buttons  ;  a  richly-embroidered  waistcoat ;  and 
for  my  cravat  one  of  French  cambric,  with  a  deep  fall  of 
Mechlin  lace.  If  I  mention  matters  so  trivial,  it  is  because 
at  the  time  to  which  I  refer,  the  modes  of  dress  were  made 
not  only  to  represent  the  sections  of  politics,  but  to  distin- 
guish between  those  who  adhered  to  an  antiquated  school 
of  breeding  and  manners,  and  those  who  now  avowed  them- 
selves the  disciples  of  a  new  teaching.  I  wished,  if  possible, 
to  avoid  either  extreme,  and  assumed  the  colors  and  the 
style  usually  worn  by  foreigners  in  English  society.  Like 
them,  too,  I  wore  a  sword  and  buckles ;  for  the  latter  I  went 
to  the  extravagance  of  paying  two  guineas  for  the  mere 
hire. 

If  you  have  ever  felt  in  life,  good  reader,  what  it  was  to 
have  awaited  in  anxious  expectancy  for  the  day  of  some 
great  examination  whose  issue  was  to  have  given  the  tone 
to  all  your  future  destiny,  you  may  form  some  notion  of  the 
state  of  mental  excitement  in  which  I  passed  the  ensuing 
twenty-four  hours.     It  was  to  no  purpose  that  I  said  to  my- 


A   STRANGE   INCIDENT  TO  BE   A  TRUE   ONE.       431 

self  all  that  my  reason  could  suggest  or  my  ingenuity  fancy ; 
a  certain  instinct,  stronger  than  reason,  more  convincing 
than  ingenuity,  told  me  that  this  was  about  to  be  an  eventful 
moment  of  my  life. 

The  hour  at  length  arrived ;  the  carriage  that  was  to  con- 
vey me  stood  at  the  door ;  and  as  I  took  a  look  at  myself, 
full  dressed  and  powdered,  in  the  glass,  I  remember  that  my 
sensations  vibrated  between  the  exulting  vanity  and  pride 
of  a  gallant  about  to  set  out  for  a  fete,  and  the  terrors  of  a 
criminal  on  his  way  to  the  block.  My  head  grew  more  and 
more  confused  as  I  drove  along.  At  moments  I  thought 
that  all  was  a  dream,  and  I  tried  to  arouse  and  wake  myself ; 
then  I  fancied  that  it  was  the  past  was  fictitious,  —  that  my 
poverty,  my  want,  and  my  hardship  were  all  imaginary ; 
that  my  real  condition  was  one  of  rank  and  affluence.  I 
examined  the  rich  lace  of  my  ruffles,  the  sparkling  splendor 
of  my  sword-knot,  and  said,  "  Surely  these  are  not  the  signs 
of  squalid  misery  and  want."  I  called  to  mind  my  impres- 
sions of  the  world,  my  memories  of  life  and  society,  and 
asked,  "Can  these  be  the  sentiments  of  a  miserable  out- 
cast? "  Assuredly,  my  poor  brain  was  sorely  tried  to  recon- 
cile these  strong  contradictions ;  nor  do  I  yet  understand 
how  I  obtained  sufficient  mastery  over  my  emotions  to  present 
myself  at  the  house  of  my  entertainer. 

"What  name,  sir?"  said  the  obsequious  servant,  who, 
with  noiseless  footsteps,  had  preceded  me  to  the  drawing- 
room  door. 

"What  name  shall  I  announce,  sir?"  said  he  a  second 
time,  as,  overwhelmed  with  confusion,  I  still  stood  speechless 
before  him.  Till  that  very  moment  all  thought  on  the  sub- 
ject had  escaped  me,  and  I  utterly  forgot  that  I  was  actually 
without  a  designation  in  the  world.  In  all  my  shame  and 
misery  it  had  been  a  kind  of  consolation  to  me  that  the  name 
of  my  father  had  never  been  degraded,  and  that  whatever 
mighl  have  been  my  portion  of  worldly  hardship,  the  once- 
honored  appellation  had  not  shared  in  it.  To  assume  it  at 
this  instant  was  too  perilous.  Another  day,  one  short  night, 
would  again  reduce  me  to  the  same  ignominious  station  ;  and 
I  should  have  thus,  by  a  momentary  rashness,  compromised 
the  greatest  secret  of  my  heart.    A  third  time  did  he  ask  the 


432  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

same  question ;  and  as  I  stood  uncertain  and  overwhelmed, 
a  quiet  foot  was  heard  ascending  the  stairs,  a  handsome, 
bright-looking  man  came  forward,  the  door  was  flung  open 
at  his  approach,  and  the  servant  called  out,  "  Mr.  Sheridan." 
I  followed  quickly,  and  the  door  closed  behind  us.  Hastily 
passing  from  Sheridan,  O'Kelly  came  forward  to  me  and. 
shook  me  cordially  by  the  hand.  Thanking  me  politely  for 
my  punctuality,  he  welcomed  me  with  all  the  semblance  of 
old  friendship. 

"  Colonel  Conway  and  Payne  you  are  already  acquainted 
with,"  said  he;  "  but  your  long  absence  from  England  ex- 
cuses you  for  not  knowing  my  other  friends.  This  is  Mr. 
Sheridan,"  —  we  bowed,  —  "Mr.  Malcomb,  Captain  Sey- 
mour, Sir  George  Begley,"  and  so  on,  with  two  or  three 
more.  He  made  a  rapid  tour  of  the  party,  holding  me  by 
the  arm  as  he  went,  till  he  approached  a  chair  where  a  young 
and  very  handsome  man  sat,  laughing  immoderately  at  some 
story  another  at  his  side  was  whispering  to  him. 

"What  the  devil  am  I  to  call  you?"  said  O'Kelley  to 
me  in  my  ear.     "Tell  me  quickly." 

Before  I  could  stammer  out  my  own  sense  of  confusion, 
the  person  seated  in  the  arm-chair  called  out,  — 

"By  Jove!  O'Kelly  must  hear  that.  Tell  him,  Wynd- 
ham."  But  as  suddenly  stopping,  he  said,  "  A  friend  of 
yours,  O'Kelly  ?  " 

"  Yes,  your  Royal  Highness,  a  very  old  and  valued  friend, 
whom  I  have  not  seen  since  our  school-days.  He  has  been 
vagabondizing  over  the  whole  earth,  fighting  side  by  side 
with  I  know  not  how  many  of  your  Royal  Highness's  ene- 
mies ;  and,  having  made  his  fortune,  has  come  back  to  lose 
it  here  amongst  us,  as  the  only  suitable  reparation  in  his 
power  for  all  his  past  misconduct." 

"  With  such  excellent  intentions,  he  could  not  have  fallen 
into  better  hands  than  yours,  O'Kelly,"  said  the  Prince, 
laughing;  "and  I  wish  all  the  fellows  we  have  been  sub- 
sidizing these  ten  years  no  worse  than  to  be  your  antag- 
onists at  piquet."  Then,  addressing  me,  he  said,  "An 
Irishman,  I  presume?" 

"  Yes,  your  Royal  Highness,"  said  I,  bowing  deeply. 

"  He  started  as  an  0  something,  or  Mac  somebody,"  said 


A  STRANGE  INCIDENT  TO  BE  A  TRUE  ONE.       433 

O'Kelly,  interrupting;  "but  having  been  Don'd  in  Spain, 
'  Strissemoed '  in  Italy,  and  almost  guillotined  in  France 
for  calling  himself  Monsieur,  he  has  come  back  to  us  with- 
out any  designation  that  he  dares  to  call  his  own." 

"That  is  exactly  what  happened  to  a  very  well  known 
character  in  the  reign  of  Charles  I.,"  said  Conway,  "who 
called  himself  by  the  title  of  his  last  conquest  in  the  fair 
sex,  saying,  '  When  I  take  a  reputation,  I  accept  all  the 
reproach  of  the  name.'  " 

"There  was  another  authority,"  said  Sheridan,  —  "a 
fellow  who  called  himself  the  King  of  the  Beggars,  who 
styled  himself  each  day  after  the  man  who  gave  him  most, 
and  died  inheriting  the  name  of  Bamfield  Moore  Carew." 

"  Carew  will  do  admirably  for  my  friend  here,  then,"  said 
O'Kelly,  "  and  we  '11  call  him  so  henceforth." 

It  may  be  imagined  with  what  a  strange  rush  of  emotion 
I  accepted  this  designation,  and  laughingly  joined  in  the 
caprice  of  the  hour.  I  saw  enough  to  convince  me  that  all 
around  received  O'Kelly's  story  as  a  mere  piece  of  jest, 
and  that  none  had  any  suspicion  of  my  real  condition  save 
himself  and  his  two  friends.  This  conviction  served  to  set 
me  much  at  my  ease,  and  I  went  down  to  dinner  with  far 
less  of  constraint  than  might  have  been  supposed  for  one  in 
my  situation. 

I  will  not  disguise  the  fact  that  I  thought  for  the  first 
half-hour  that  every  eye  was  on  me,  that  whatever  I  did 
or  said  was  the  subject  of  general  remark,  and  that  my 
manner  as  I  ate,  and  my  tone  as  I  spoke,  were  all  watched 
and  scrutinized.  Gradually,  however,  I  grew  to  perceive 
that  I  attracted  no  more  notice  than  others  about  me,  and 
that,  to  all  purposes,  I  was  admitted  to  a  perfect  equality 
with  the  rest. 

Conversation  ranged  freely  over  a  wide  field.  Politics  of 
every  state  of  Europe,  the  leading  public  characters  and 
statesmen,  their  opinions  and  habits,  the  modes  of  life 
abroad,  literature  and  the  drama,  were  all  discussed,  if  not 
always  with  great  knowledge,  still  with  the  ready  smartness 
of  practised  talkers.  Anecdotes  and  incidents  of  various 
kinds  were  narrated,  quips  and  sharp  replies  abounded; 
and  amidst  much  cleverness  and  agreeability,  a  truly  good- 

23 


434  SIK  JASPER   CAREW. 

humored,  convivial  spirit  leavened  the  whole  mass,  and 
made  up  a  most  pleasant  party. 

So  interested  had  I  become  in  the  conversation  about 
me  that  I  did  not  perceive  how,  by  degrees,  I  had  been 
drawn  on  to  talk  on  a  variety  of  subjects  which  travel  had 
made  me  familiar  with,  and  to  speak  of  persons  of  mark 
and  station  whom  I  had  met  and  known.  Still  less  did  I 
remark  that  I  was  submitted  to  a  species  of  examination 
as  to  my  veracity,  and  that  I  was  asked  for  dates,  and 
times,  and  place,  in  a  manner  that  might  have  startled  one 
more  susceptible.  Warmed  with  what  I  may  dare  to  call 
my  success,  and  heated  with  wine,  I  grew  bolder ;  I  stigma- 
tized as  gross  ignorance  and  folly  the  policy  of  the  English 
Government  in  maintaining  a  war  for  what  no  success  could 
ever  bring  back  again, — the  prestige  of  loyalty,  and  the 
respect  once  tendered  to  nobility. 

I  know  not  into  what  excesses  my  enthusiasm  may  have 
carried  me.  Enough  when  I  say  that  I  encountered  the 
most  brilliant  talkers  without  fear,  and  entered  the  list 
with  all  that  the  day  possessed  of  conversational  power, 
without  any  sense  of  faint-heartedness.  On  such  questions 
as  the  military  system  of  France,  the  division  of  parties 
in  that  country,  the  probable  issue  to  which  the  struggle 
pointed,  I  was,  indeed,  better  informed  than  my  neighbors ; 
but  when  they  came  to  discuss  the  financial  condition  of 
the  French,  and  what  it  had  been  in  the  late  reigns,  I  at 
once  recalled  all  my  conversations  with  Law,  with  every 
detail  of  whose  system  I  was  perfectly  familiar. 

Of  the  anecdotes  of  that  time  —  a  most  amusing  illustra- 
tion of  society  as  it  then  existed  —  I  remembered  many ; 
and  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  see  that  the  Prince  listened 
with  evident  pleasure  to  my  recitals ;  and,  at  last,  it  was 
in  the  very  transport  of  success  I  found  myself  ascending 
the  stairs  to  the  drawing-room,  while  O'Kelly  whispered  in 
my  ear,  — 

"Splendidly  done,  by  Jove!  The  Prince  is  going  to 
invite  you  to  Carlton  House." 

After  coffee  was  served,  the  party  sat  down  to  play  of 
various  kinds,  —  dice,  cards,  and  backgammon.  At  the 
Prince's  whist-table  there  was  a  vacant   place,  and  I  was 


A   STRANGE   INCIDENT  TO   BE   A  TRUE   ONE.       485 

invited  to  take  it.  I  had  twenty  guineas  in  gold  in  my 
pocket.  They  were  my  all  in  the  world ;  but  had  they  been 
as  many  millions,  I  would  not  have  scrupled  to  risk  them 
at  such  a  moment.  There  was  a  strange,  almost  insane 
spirit  that  seemed  to  whisper  to  me  that  nothing  could  be 
too  bold  to  adventure  —  no  flight  too  high  —  no  contrast 
with  my  real  condition  too  striking  to  attempt !  They  who 
have  braved  danger  and  death  to  ascend  some  great  glacier, 
the  whole  object  the  one  triumphant  moment  on  which  they 
behold  the  blaze  of  sunrise,  may  form  some  conception  of 
the  maddening  ecstasy  of  my  sensations. 

"  Do  you  play  at  whist?  If  so,  come  and  join  us,"  said 
the  Prince. 

"  Take  my  purse,"  whispered  O'Kelly,  endeavoring  to  slip 
it  into  my  hand  as  he  spoke. 

I  accepted  the  invitation ;  and,  without  taking  any  notice 
of  O' Kelly's  offer,  took  my  place  at  the  table. 

"  We  play  low  stakes,  too  low,  perhaps,  for  you,"  said 
his  Royal  Highness,  —  "mere  guinea  points;  but  there's 
Canthorpe,  and  Sedley,  and  two  or  three  more,  will  indulge 
you  in  any  wager  you  fancy." 

"  Fifty  on  the  rubber,  if  you  like,  sir,"  said  Colonel 
Canthorpe,  a  tall,  soldier-like  man,  who  stood  with  his 
back  to  the  fire. 

"  If  my  friend  O'Kelly  will  be  my  banker  for  to-night,  I 
shall  take  your  offer." 

Without  the  slightest  hesitation,  O'Kelly  replied,  "  To  be 
sure,  my  boy !  "  and  the  game  began. 

My  mastery  at  the  game  was  soon  apparent;  and  the 
Prince  complimented  me  by  saying,  — 

"  I  wish  we  could  discover  in  what  you  are  deficient;  for 
up  to  this  we  have  certainly  not  hit  upon  it." 

It  needed  not  all  this  flattery  to  make  me  feel  almost 
mad  with  excitement.  I  remember  little  of  that  scene  ;  but 
still  there  is  one  trait  of  it  fast  graven  on  my  memory,  to 
hold  its  place  there  forever.  It  was  this:  that  while  I 
betted  largely,  and  lost  freely  considerable  sums,  O'Kelly, 
who  had  become  the  security  for  my  debts,  never  winced 
for  a  moment,  nor  showed  the  slightest  mark  of  discom- 
fiture or  uneasiness.     My  demand,  in  the  first  instance,  was 


436  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

suggested  by  the  not  over  generous  motive  of  making  him 
pay  the  penalty  he  had  incurred  by  having  invited  me.  He 
has  called  me  his  friend  before  the  world,  thought  I,  and 
if  he  means  this  for  a  cruel  jest,  it  shall  at  least  cost  him 
dearly.  In  a  sort  of  savage  ferocity,  I  fed  myself  with 
thinking  of  the  tortures  with  which  I  should  afflict  him,  in 
return  for  all  the  agony  and  suffering  I  had  myself  gone 
through.  He  also  shall  know  what  it  is  to  act  a  lie,  said  I 
to  myself ;  and  with  this  hateful  resolve  I  sat  down  to  play. 
His  ready  acceptance  of  my  proposition,  his  gentleman-like 
ease  and  calm,  his  actual  indifference  as  I  lost,  and  lost 
heavily,  soon  staggered  all  my  reasonings,  and  routed  all 
my  theory.  And  when  at  last  the  Prince,  complimenting 
me  on  my  skill,  deplored  the  ill-luck  that  more  than  balanced 
it,  O'Kelly  said,  gayly,  — 

"Depend  on 't,  you'll  have  better  fortune  after  supper. 
Come  and  have  a  glass  of  champagne." 

I  was  now  impatient  until  we  were  again  at  the  card- 
table. 

All  my  former  intentions  were  reversed,  and  I  would  have 
given  my  right  hand  to  have  been  able  to  repay  my  debt  to 
him  ere  I  said  "Good  night."  Perhaps  he  read  what  was 
passing  within  me  ;  I  almost  suspect  that  he  construed  aright 
the  restless  anxiety  that  now  beset  me ;  for  he  whispered,  as 
we  went  back  to  the  drawing-room,  — 

"You  are  evidently  out  of  luck.  Wait  for  your  revenge 
on  another  evening." 

"Now  or  never,"  said  I.  And  so  was  it  in  reality.  I 
had  secretly  determined  within  myself  to  try  and  win  back 
O'Kelly's  losses,  and  if  I  failed,  at  once  to  stand  forward 
and  declare  myself  in  my  real  character.  No  false  shame, 
no  real  dread  of  the  ignominy  to  which  I  should  expose  my- 
self should  prevent  me ;  and  with  an  oath  to  my  own  heart  I 
ratified  this  compact. 

Again  we  took  our  places  ;  the  stakes  were  now  doubled  ; 
and  all  the  excitement  of  mind  was  added  to  the  gambler's 
infatuation.  Colonel  Canthorpe,  who  had  been  for  some 
minutes  occupied  with  his  note-book,  at  last  tore  out  the  leaf 
he  had  been  writing  on,  and  handed  it  to  me,  saying,  — 

"  Is  that  correct?  " 


A   STRANGE   INCIDENT   TO   BE  A   TRUE   ONE.       437 

The  figures  were  six  hundred  and  fifty,  —  the  amount  of 
m}?  loss. 

I  simply  nodded  an  assent,  and  said,  — 

"  We  go  on,  I  suppose? " 

"  We  '11  double,  if  you  prefer  it,"  said  he. 

"  What  says  my  banker?"  said  I. 

"He  says,  '  Credit  unlimited,'  "  cried  O'Kelly,  gayly. 

"  Egad  !  I  wish  mine  would  say  as  much,"  said  the  Prince, 
laughing,  as  he  cut  the  cards  for  me  to  deal. 

Although  I  had  drunk  freely,  and  talked  excitingly, 
my  head  became  suddenly  calm  and  collected,  just  as  if 
some  great  emergency  had  sufficed  to  dispel  all  illusions, 
and  enabled  my  faculties  to  assume  their  full  exercise. 
Of  O'Kelly  I  saw  nothing  more ;  he  was  occupied  in  an 
adjoining  room ;  and  even  this  element  of  anxiety  was 
spared  me. 

I  will  not  ask  my  reader  to  follow  me  through  the  vicis- 
situdes of  play,  nor  expect  from  him  any  share  of  interest  in 
a  passion  which  of  all  others  is  the  most  bereft  of  good,  and 
allied  with  the  very  lowest  of  all  motives,  and  the  meanest 
of  all  ambitions.  Enough  that  I  tell  the  result.  After  a 
long  course  of  defeats  and  disasters,  I  rose,  not  only  clear 
of  all  my  debts,  but  a  winner  of  two  hundred  pounds. 

The  Prince  heartily  congratulated  me  on  my  good  fortune, 
saying  that  none  could  better  deserve  it.  He  complimented 
me  much  on  my  play,  but  still  more  on  my  admirable  temper 
as  a  loser,  —  a  quality  which,  he  added,  he  never  could  lay 
claim  to. 

"  I'm  a  bad  beaten  man,  but  you  are  the  very  reverse," 
said  he.  "  Dine  with  me  on  Saturday,  and  I  hope  to  see 
how  you'll  comport  yourself  as  a  winner." 

I  had  but  time  to  bow  my  humble  acknowledgment  of 
this  gracious  speech,  when  O'Kelly  came  up,  saying,  — 

"So  Canthorpe  tells  me  you  beat  him,  after  all;  but  I 
always  knew  how  it  would  end,  —  play  must  and  will  tell  in 
the  long  run." 

"  Non  numen  habes  si  sit  Prudentia, — eh,  O'Kelly?" 
said  Conway. 

"  Prudentia  means  the  ace  of  trumps,  then,"  said  Sheridan. 

"Where  shall  I  send  you  my  debt?"  said  Canthorpe  to 
me,  in  a  whisper.     "What's  your  club?" 


438  SIR  JASPER  CAREW 

"  He  's  only  just  arrived  in  town,"  interrupted  O'Kelly ; 
"  but  I  intend  to  put  him  up  for  Brooke's  on  "Wednesday, 
and  will  ask  you  to  second  him.  You  're  on  the  committee, 
I  think?" 

"  Yes  ;  and  I  '11  do  it  with  great  pleasure,"  said  Canthorpe. 

"I'll  settle  your  score  for  you,"  said  O'Kelly  to  Can- 
thorpe ;  and  now,  with  much  handshaking  and  cordiality, 
the  party  broke  up. 

"  Don't  go  for  a  moment,"  said  O'Kelly  to  me,  as  he 
passed  to  accompany  the  Prince  downstairs.  I  sat  down 
before  the  fire  in  the  now  deserted  room,  and,  burying  my 
head  between  my  hands,  I  endeavored  to  bring  my  thoughts 
to  something  like  order  and  discipline.  It  was  to  no  use ; 
the  whirlwind  of  emotions  I  had  endured  still  raged  within 
me,  and  I  could  not  satisfy  myself  which  of  all  my  characters 
was  the  real  one.  Was  I  the  outcast,  destitute  and  miser- 
able? or  was  I  the  friend  of  the  high-born,  and  the  asso- 
ciate of  a  Prince?  "Where  was  this  to  end?  Should  I  awake 
to  misery  on  the  morrow,  or  was  madness  itself  to  be  the 
issue  to  this  strange  dream?  Heaven  forgive  me  if  I  almost 
wished  it  might  be  so,  and  if  in  my  abject  terror  I  would 
have  chosen  the  half-unconscious  existence  of  insanity  to  the 
sense  of  shame  and  self-upbraiding  my  future  seemed  to 
menace ! 

While  I  sat  thus,  O'Kelly  entered,  and,  having  locked 
the  door  after  him,  took  his  place  beside  me.  I  was  not 
aware  of  his  presence  till  he  said,  — 

"  Well,  Jack,  I  intended  to  mystify  others ;  but,  by  Jove ! 
it  has  ended  in  mystifying  myself.  Who  the  devil  are  you? 
What  are  you?" 

"  If  I  don't  mistake  me,  you  are  the  man  to  answer  that 
question  yourself.  You  presented  me  not  alone  to  your 
friends,  but  to  your  Prince ;  and  it  is  but  fair  to  infer  that 
you  knew  what  you  were  about." 

He  stared  at  me  steadily  without  speaking.  I  saw  the 
state  of  confusion  and  embarrassment  from  which  he  suf- 
fered, and  I  actually  revelled  in  the  difficulty  in  which  I  had 
placed  him.  I  perceived  all  the  advantage  of  my  position, 
and  resolved  to  profit  by  it. 

"One  thing  is  quite  evident,"  said  I,  calmly  and  col- 
lectedly, like  a  man  who  weighed  all  his  words,  and  spoke 


A   STRANGE   INCIDENT  TO   BE  A   TRUE   ONE.       439 

with  deep  deliberation,  —  "  one  thing  is  quite  evident,  you 
could  scarcely  have  presumed  to  take  such  a  liberty  with 
your  Prince  as  to  present  to  hiin,  and  place  at  the  same 
table  with  him,  a  man  whom  you  picked  up  from  the 
streets,  — one  whose  very  station  marked  him  for  an  outcast, 
whose  exterior  showed  his  destitution.  This,  I  conclude, 
you  could  not  have  dared  to  do;  and  yet  it  is  in  the  direct 
conviction  that  such  was  my  position  yesterday,  I  sit  here 
now.  trying  to  reconcile  such  inconsistency,  and  asking  my- 
self which  of  us  two  is  in  the  wrong." 

"  My  good  friend,"  said  O'lvelly,  with  a  deliberation  fully 
the  equal  of  my  own,  and  in  a  way  that,  I  must  confess, 
somewhat  abashed  me,  —  "  my  good  friend,  do  not  embarrass 
yourself  by  any  anxieties  for  me.  I  am  quite  able  and 
ready  to  account  for  my  actions  to  any  who  deem  themselves 
eligible  to  question  them." 

"  From  which  number,"  said  I,  interrupting,  "  you  would, 
of  course,  infer  that  I  am  to  be  excluded?" 

"By  no  means,"  said  he,  "  if  you  can  satisfy  me  to  the 
contrary.  I  shall  hold  myself  as  responsible  to  you  as  to 
any  one  of  those  gentlemen  who  have  just  left  us,  if  you  will 
merely  show  me  sufficient  cause." 

'•  As  how,  for  instance?  "  asked  I. 

"  Simply  by  declaring  yourself  the  rightful  possessor  of  a 
station  and  rank  in  life  for  which  your  habits  and  manners 
plainly  show  you  to  be  fitted.  Let  me  be  convinced  that  you 
have  not  derogated  from  this  by  any  act  unworthy  of  a  man 
of  honor  —  " 

"  Stop,  sir,"  said  I.  "By  what  right  do  you  dare  to  put 
me  on  my  trial?  Of  your  own  free  will  you  presumed  to 
ask  for  my  companionship.  You  extended  to  me  an  equality 
which,  if  not  sincere,  was  an  insult." 

"Egad!  if  you  be  really  a  gentleman,  j^our  reasons  are 
all  good  ones,"  said  O'Kelly.  "I  own,  too,  frankly.  I 
intended  my  freak  as  the  subjectof  a  wager.  If  I  be  caught 
in  my  own  toils,  I  must  only  pay  the  penalty." 

"  And  give  me  satisfaction?" 

'•  That  is  what  I  mean,"  replied  he,  bowing. 

"  Then  you  have  done  it  already,"  said  I,  rising.  "  T  ask 
for  no  more  than  the  frank  and  manly  readiness  with  which 


440  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

you  acknowledge  that  poverty  is  no  disqualification  to  the 
assertion  of  an  honorable  pride,  and  that  the  feeling  of  a 
gentleman  may  still  throb  in  the  heart  of  a  ragged  man." 

"  You  are  surely  not  going  to  leave  me  this  way,"  said  he, 
catching  my  hand  in  both  his  own.  "You'll  tell  me  who 
you  are,  —  you  '11  let  me  know  at  least  something  of  you." 

"Not  now,  at  all  events,"  said  I.  "I'm  not  in  a  mood 
to  encounter  more  at  present.  Good  night.  Before  I  leave 
you,  however,  I  owe  it,  as  some  return  for  your  hospitality, 
to  say  that  I  shall  not  hazard  your  credit  with  your  Prince, 
—  I  do  not  mean  to  accept  his  invitation.  You  must  find 
the  fitting  apology,  for  I  shall  leave  England  to-morrow,  in 
all  likelihood  for  years,  —  at  all  events,  for  a  period  long 
enough  to  make  this  incident  forgotten.     Good-bye." 

"By  Jove!  I'll  never  forgive  myself  if  we  part  in  this 
fashion,"  said  O'Kelly.  "  Do  —  as  a  proof  of  some  regard, 
or  at  least  of  some  consideration  for  me  —  do  tell  me  your 
real  name." 

"  Carew,"  said  I,  calmly. 

"  No,  no;  that  was  but  a  jest.  I  ask  in  all  earnestness 
and  sincerity;  tell  me  your  name." 

"Jasper  Carew,"  said  I,  again;  and  before  he  could 
collect  himself  to  reply,  I  had  reached  the  door,  and,  with 
a  last  "good-night,"  I  passed  out,  and  left  him. 

I  could  not  bring  myself  to  return  to  my  miserable  lodg- 
ing again.  I  felt  as  if  a  new  phase  of  life  had  opened  on 
me,  and  that  it  would  be  an  act  of  meanness  to  revert  to  the 
scenes  of  my  former  obscurity.  I  entered  a  hotel,  and 
ordered  a  room.  My  appearance  and  dress  at  once  exacted 
every  respect  and  attention.  A  handsome  chamber  was 
immediately  prepared  for  me ;  and  just  as  day  was  break- 
ing, I  fell  off  into  a  deep  sleep  which  lasted  till  late  in  the 
afternoon. 


CHAPTER  XL. 


I  cannot  attempt  to  describe  my  feelings  on  awaking,  nor 
the  lamentable  failure  of  all  my  efforts  at  recalling  the 
events  of  the  night  before.  That  many  real  occurrences 
seemed  to  me  the  mere  effects  of  wine  and  a  heated  imagina- 
tion, and  that  some  of  the  very  wildest  freaks  of  my  fancy 
were  assumed  by  me  as  facts,  I  can  now  readily  believe. 
In  truth,  my  head  was  in  a  state  of  the  wildest  credulity 
and  the  very  narrowest  distrust,  and  my  only  astonishment 
now  is,  how  I  resisted  impulses  plainly  suggested  by  coming 
insanity. 

At  one  time  I  thought  of  calling  O'Kelly  out;  then  my 
indignation  was  directed  against  some  other  of  the  company, 
for  either  a  real  or  a  fancied  grievance.  Perhaps  they  had 
all  been  in  the  league  against  me,  and  that  I  had  been  invited 
merely  to  make  a  sport  of  my  absurd  pretensions,  and  to 
afford  laughter  by  my  vanity.  Then  it  occurred  to  me  that 
it  was  the  Prince  himself  who  was  insulted  by  my  compan- 
ionship, and  that  they  who  had  dared  to  make  me  the  means 
of  such  an  outrage  should  be  held  accountable. 

Lastly  came  the  thought,  Is  the  whole  a  dream  ?  Have  I 
been  drugged  to  play  some  absurd  and  ridiculous  part,  and 
shall  I  be  exposed  to  ridicule  when  I  appear  abroad  again? 
This  impression  was  strengthened  by  the  appearance  of  my 
dress,  so  unlike  anything  I  had  ever  worn  before.  Of  the 
incidents  of  the  card-table  I  could  remember  next  to  noth- 
ing. A  few  trivial  facts  of  the  game,  an  accidental  event 
in  the  play  itself,  remained  in  my  memory,  but  that  was  all. 
I  fancied  I  had  been  a  heavy  loser ;  but  how,  when,  or  to 
whom,  I  knew  not.  I  opened  my  pocket-book,  and  found 
four  notes  for  fifty  pounds  each ;  but  how  they  came  there  I 


442  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

could  not  conceive !  And  yet,  said  I,  all  this  took  place 
yesterday  !  and  what  was  I  before  that?  —  where  did  I  live, 
and  with  whom  associate  ?  My  head  began  to  turn  ,  the 
strangest  thoughts  chased  each  other  through  rny  brain. 
Incidents  of  the  street,  collisions  and  accidents  of  all  kinds, 
were  mingled  with  events  of  the  previous  evening ;  want 
and  squalor  stood  side  by  side  with  splendor,  and  the  bland 
accents  of  royalty  blended  themselves  with  the  brutal  ex- 
clamations of  my  former  fellows.  Then  there  flashed  across 
me  the  thought  that  the  drama  in  which  I  had  been  made 
to  perform  was  not  yet  played  out.  They  mean  me  to 
figure  further  on  the  boards,  said  I  to  myself ;  the  money 
has  been  supplied  to  me  to  tempt  me  into  extravagance 
which  shall  make  me  even  more  ridiculous  still.  My  every 
action  watched,  my  words  listened  to,  my  gestures  noted 
down,  I  am  to  be  the  butt  of  then-  sarcastic  pleasure,  and 
all  my  pretensions  to  the  habits,  the  feelings,  and  the  man- 
ners of  a  gentleman  be  held  up  as  a  subject  for  mockery 
and  derision. 

I  half  dreaded  to  ring  the  bell  and  summon  the  waiter, 
lest  I  should  be  exposing  myself  to  a  spy  on  my  actions. 
When  I  approached  the  window  to  look  out,  I  fancied  that 
every  accidental  glance  of  a  passer-by  was  the  prying  gaze 
of  insolent  curiosity.  It  was  in  a  state  of  fever  that  I 
dressed  myself ;  and  even  then  my  costume  of  full  dinner 
dress  made  me  feel  ashamed  to  venture  abroad.  At  last  I 
took  courage  to  order  breakfast.  The  respectful  demeanor 
of  the  waiter  gave  me  further  confidence,  and  I  ventured  to 
ask  him  a  few  questions  on  passing  events.  I  learned  that 
the  hotel  was  one  usually  frequented  by  foreigners,  for 
whose  accommodation  two  or  three  Continental  newspapers 
were  taken.  At  my  request  he  fetched  me  one  of  these,  — 
"  La  Gazette  de  Paris;"  and  with  this  for  my  companion, 
I  sat  myself  down  at  my  fire,  resolved  to  remain  a  close 
prisoner  for  at  least  a  day  or  two. 

Towards  evening  I  sent  for  a  tailor  and  ordered  two  suits 
of  clothes,  with  linen,  and,  in  fact,  all  that  I  stood  in  need 
of ;  and  when  night  set  in,  I  issued  forth  to  make  several 
small  purchases  of  articles  I  wanted.  It  was  late  when  I 
entered  the  hotel,  and,  not  having  eaten  any  dinner,  I  felt 


AT   SEA.  443 

hungry.  The  waiter  showed  me  into  the  coffee-room,  which 
was  arrayed  in  foreign  fashion,  and  where  they  supped  a  la 
carti . 

The  general  appearance  of  the  company  at  once  pro- 
claimed then-  origin ;  and  a  less  practised  eye  than  mine 
even,  might  have  seen  that  they  were  all  natives  of  some 
Continental  country.  They  talked  loudly  and  gesticulated 
wildly,  careless  to  all  seeming  of  being  overheard  by 
strangers,  and  little  regarding  in  whose  presence  the}7 
might  be  standing.  Their  bearing  was,  in  fact,  such  as 
speedily  set  me  at  ease  amongst  them,  and  made  me  feel 
rnyself  unnoticed  and  unremarked. 

Seated  at  a  small  table  by  myself,  I  ordered  my  supper, 
and  half  carelessly  watched  the  others  while  it  was  being 
prepared.  Whatever  they  might  have  been  by  birth  or 
station,  they  seemed  now  all  in  the  very  narrowest  circum- 
stances. Threadbare  coats  and  broken  boots,  worn  hats 
and  gloveless  hands,  bespoke  their  condition ;  nor  could  all 
the  swagger  of  manner,  or  pretentious  display  of  a  ribbon 
or  a  cross,  cover  over  the  evidences  of  real  poverty  that 
oppressed  them. 

Had  I  noticed  these  signs  earlier,  I  should  certainly  have 
restricted  myself  to  a  meal  more  befitting  the  place  and  its 
occupants.  The  humble  suppers  I  saw  around  me  of  bread 
and  cheese  now  shocked  me  at  what  might  well  appear  dis- 
play on  my  part ;  and  had  there  been  time  to  correct  my 
error,  I  should  gladly  have  done  so.  It  was,  however,  too 
late.  Already  had  the  landlord  carried  in  a  silver  tureen  of 
soup,  and  set  it  before  me  ;  and  the  tall  neck  of  a  champagne 
bottle  rose  amidst  the  mimic  icebergs  at  my  side. 

The  others  took  no  pains  to  hide  their  astonishment  at 
all  this ;  they  stood  in  knots  and  groups  about,  with  eyes 
directed  full  upon  me,  and  as  evidently  made  me  the  subject 
of  their  remarks.  I  could  perceive  that  the  landlord  was  far 
from  being  at  his  ease,  and  that  all  his  endeavors  were 
employed  either  to  conceal  from  me  these  demonstrations, 
or  to  give  them  some  harmless  interpretation. 

%-  You  have  travelled,  sir,  and  know  well  what  foreigners 
are,"  said  he,  in  a  whisper;  "and  although  all  these  are 
gentlemen  by  birth,  from  one  misfortune  or  other  they  are  a 


444  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

bit  down  in  the  world  now,  and  they  look  with  jealousy  at 
any  one  better  off  than  themselves." 

"  Foreigners  are  usually  better  bred  than  to  exhibit  such 
feelings,"  said  I. 

"Nor  would  they,  perhaps,  sir,  if  at  home  and  in  pros- 
perity ;  but  so  many  are  ruined  now  by  wars  and  revolutions 
—  so  many  banished  and  exiled  —  that  one  ought  to  make 
large  allowances  for  their  tempers.  That  old  man  yonder, 
for  instance,  was  a  duke  somewhere  in  Brittany;  and  the 
thin,  tall  one,  that  is  gesticulating  with  his  stick,  served  as 
colonel  in  the  bodyguard  of  the  King  of  France.  And  there, 
next  the  fire,  —  you  see  he  has  taken  off  a  kind  of  smock- 
frock  and  is  drying  it  at  the  blaze, — that  is  a  Pomeranian 
count  who  owned  a  principality  once,  they  tell  me." 

"  He  looks  very  poor  now;  what  means  of  support 
has  he?" 

"None,  I  believe,  sir;  he  was  bred  to  nothing,  and  can 
neither  teach  drawing,  nor  music,  nor  the  sword-exercise, 
like  Frenchmen  or  Italians ;  and  the  consequence  is,  that  he 
actually  —  you  '11  not  believe  it,  but  it  is  true,  notwithstand- 
ing —  he  actually  sweeps  a  crossing  at  Cheapside  for  his 
living." 

I  started,  as  he  said  this,  as  if  I  had  been  stung  by  a  rep- 
tile. For  a  moment  I  was  convinced  that  the  speech  was  a  de- 
signed insult.  I  thought  that  the  very  expression  of  his  eyes 
as  he  turned  them  on  me  was  malignant.  It  was  all  I  could 
do  not  to  resent  the  insolence ;  but  I  restrained  myself  and 
was  silent. 

"  Heaven  knows,"  continued  he,  "if  he  have  eaten  once 
to-day." 

"  Do  you  think,"  said  I,  "  it  would  be  possible  to  induce 
him  to  join  me  at  supper,  —  I  mean,  could  it  be  managed 
without  offence  ?  " 

"Egad!  I  should  say  so,  sir,  and  easily  enough,  too. 
These  poor  fellows  have  gone  through  too  much  to  carry  any 
excess  of  pride  about  with  them." 

' '  Would  you  undertake  the  office,  then  ?  "  asked  I. 

"With  pleasure,  sir;"  and,  as  he  spoke,  he  crossed  the 
room,  and,  standing  over  the  old  man's  chair,  whispered  in 
his  ear.     I  soon  perceived,  by  the  manner  of  each,  that  the 


AT   SEA.  445 

negotiation  was  not  as  simple  as  he  had  fancied  it.  Remark, 
reply,  and  rejoinder  seemed  to  follow  each  other  quickly; 
and  I  could  almost  detect  something  like  an  insolent  rejec- 
tion of  the  landlord's  suit  in  the  old  man's  manner.  Indeed, 
I  had  not  long  to  remain  in  doubt  on  the  subject ;  for,  rising 
from  his  seat,  the  Count  addressed  some  hurried  words  to 
those  about  him,  to  which  they  replied  by  expressions  of 
anger  and  astonishment.  In  vain  the  landlord  interposed, 
and  tried  to  calm  down  their  impatience  ;  they  grew  more 
and  more  excited,  and  I  could  detect  expressions  of  insulting 
meaning  through  what  they  uttered. 

"  What  is  the  matter?"  asked  I  of  the  landlord;  but  ere 
he  could  reply,  a  tall,  dark  man,  with  the  marked  physiog- 
nomy of  a  Pole,  came  up  to  me  and  said,  — 

"  The  Graf  von  Bildstein  has  received  a  grave  provocation 
at  your  hands :  are  you  prepared  to  justify  it?" 

"  I  must  first  of  all  learn  how  I  may  have  offended  him," 
said  I,  calmly. 

"  We  all  of  us  heard  it,"  said  he,  impatiently;  "you  in- 
sulted every  man  in  this  room  through  him.  Either,  then, 
you  leave  it  at  once  [and  he  pointed  insolently  to  the  door], 
or  you  give  him  satisfaction." 

The  only  reply  I  made  to  this  speech  was  a  haughty  laugh, 
as  I  filled  my  glass  with  champagne.  I  had  but  done  so 
when,  with  a  blow  of  his  cane,  he  swept  my  bottle  and  the 
glasses  from  the  table ;  and  then,  stepping  back  and  draw- 
ing a  sword  from  the  stick,  threw  himself  into  an  attitude  of 
defence.  I  drew  my  sword  and  rushed  in  on  him.  Either 
that  he  was  not  a  skilful  fencer,  or  unprepared  for  the  sud- 
denness of  my  attack,  he  defended  himself  badly;  his  guards 
were  all  wide,  and  his  eyes  unsteady.  I  felt  my  advantage 
in  a  moment,  and,  after  a  couple  of  passes,  ran  my  point 
through  his  side,  just  close  to  the  ribs.  A  loud  cry  from  the 
bystanders,  as  the  blood  gushed  forth,  now  stopped  the 
encounter,  and  they  speedily  dashed  forward  to  catch  him 
as  he  reeled  and  fell. 

"  Away  with  you,  for  Heaven's  sake,  or  you  are  a  mur- 
dered  man,"  cried  the  landlord  to  me,  Avhile  he  pushed  me 
violently  from  the  room  and  out  into  the  street,  barring  and 
bolting  the  door  within,  at  the  same  instant.     The  terrible 


446  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

clamor  inside,  and  the  efforts  to  force  a  passage,  now  warned 
me  of  my  danger,  and  I  fled  at  the  very  top  of  my  speed, 
not  knowing  nor  caring  whither.  I  had  gone  considerably 
above  a  mile  ere  I  ventured  to  halt  and  draw  breath.  I  was 
in  a  part  of  the  city  with  narrow  streets  and  tall  warehouses, 
dark,  gloomy,  and  solitary ;  a  small,  mean-looking  alley  led 
me  down  to  the  river's  side,  from  which  I  could  perceive  the 
Tower  quite  close,  and  a  crowd  of  shipping  in  the  stream. 
A  small  schooner,  with  a  foresail  alone  set,  was  just  getting 
under  way,  and  as  she  slowly  moved  along,  boats  came  and 
went  from  the  shore  to  her. 

"Want  to  go  aboard,  sir?  "  asked  a  waterman,  who  ob- 
served me  as  I  stood  watching  the  movement  of  the  craft. 
I  nodded,  and  the  next  moment  we  were  alongside.  I 
asked  for  the  skipper,  and  heard  that  he  was  to  join  us  at 
Gravesend.  The  mate  politely  said  I  might  go  below  ;  and, 
accepting  the  permission,  I  descended  to  the  cabin,  and  lay 
down  on  a  bench.  A  boy  was  cleaning  plates  and  glasses 
in  a  little  nook  at  one  side,  and  from  him  I  learned  that  the 
schooner  was  the  "Martha,"  of  Hull,  bound  for  Cherbourg; 
her  captain  was  her  owner,  and  usually  traded  between 
the  English  coast  and  the  Channel  Islands.  At  all  events, 
thought  I,  I  am  safe  out  of  England ;  and  with  that  reflec- 
tion I  turned  on  my  side  and  went  off  to  sleep. 

Just  as  day  broke,  the  skipper  came  on  board,  and  I  could 
perceive,  by  the  gushing  noise  beside  my  ear,  that  we  were 
going  fast  through  the  water.  The  craft  lay  over,  too,  and 
seemed  as  if  under  a  press  of  canvas.  It  was  not  for  full 
an  hour  afterwards  that  the  skipper  descended  to  the  cabin, 
and,  shaking  me  roughly  by  the  shoulder,  asked  how  I  came 
there. 

I  had  gone  asleep  concocting  a  story  to  account  for  my 
presence ;  and  so  I  told  him  in  a  few  words  that  I  had  just 
been  engaged  in  a  duel  wherein  I  had  wounded  my  antag- 
onist; that  as  the  event  had  occurred  suddenly,  I  had  no 
time  for  any  preparation,  but  just  threw  myself  on  board 
the  first  craft  about  to  sail,  ready  and  willing  to  pay  lib- 
ei'ally  for  the  succor  it  afforded  me. 

Either  he  disbelieved  my  narrative,  or  fancied  that  it 
might  involve  himself  in  some  trouble,  for  he  doggedly  said 


AT   SEA.  447 

I  had  no  right  to  come  aboard  of  her  without  his  leave,  and 
that  he  should  certainly  put  iu  at  Ramsgate  and  hand  me 
over  to  the  authorities. 

"Be  it  so,"  said  I,  with  au  affected  indifference.  "The 
greater  fool  you  not  to  earn  fifty  guineas  for  a  kind  office 
than  go  out  of  your  way  to  do  a  churlish  one." 

He  left  me  at  this  to  go  up  on  deck,  and  came  down  again 
about  half  an  hour  later.  I  heard  enough  to  convince  me 
that  the  wind  was  freshening,  and  that  a  heavy  sea,  too, 
was  getting  up,  so  that  in  all  likelihood  he  would  hesitate 
ere  he  'd  try  to  put  in  at  Ramsgate.  He  did  not  speak  to 
me  this  time,  but  sat  with  folded  arms  watching  me  as  I 
lay  pretending  to  be  asleep.     At  length  he  said,  — 

"  I  say,  friend,  you  've  got  no  passport,  I  suppose?  How 
do  you  mean  to  laud  in  France?  or,  if  there,  how  do  you 
propose  to  travel  ?  " 

' '  These  are  matters  I  don't  mean  to  trouble  you  about, 
Captain,"  said  I,  haughtily;  and  though  I  said  the  words 
boldly  enough,  it  was  exactly  the  very  puzzle  that  was  then 
working  in  my  brain. 

"  Ay,  sir  ;  but  they  are  exactly  matters  that  concern  me; 
for  you  are  not  on  the  schooner's  manifest,  —  you  are  not 
one  of  her  crew,  —  and  I  don't  mean  to  get  into  trouble  on 
your  behalf." 

"  Put  me  ashore  at  night,  or  leave  me  to  reach  it  in  any 
way."  said  I,  half  angrily;  for  I  was  well-nigh  out  of 
patience  at  these  everlasting  difficulties. 

He  made  no  reply  to  this  speech,  but  starting  suddenly 
up,  like  a  man  who  had  hastily  made  up  his  mind  on  some 
particular  course,  he  went  up  on  deck.  I  overheard  orders 
given,  and  immediately  after  a  stir  and  bustle  among  the 
sailors,  and  in  my  anxiety  at  once  connected  myself  with 
these  movements.  What  project  had  they  regarding  me? 
In  what  way  did  they  mean  to  treat  me? — were  the  questions 
that  rose  to  my  mind.  The  heavy  working  of  the  craft 
showed  me  that  her  course  had  been  altered,  and  I  began 
to  dread  lest  we  should  be  turning  again  towards  England. 

From  these  thoughts  my  mind  wandered  back  and  back, 
reviewing  the  chief  events  of  my  life,  and  wondering 
whether  I  were  ever  destined  to  reach  one  spot  that  I  could 


448  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

rest  in,  and  where  my  weary  spirit  might  find  peace.  To 
be  the  sport  of  Fortune  in  her  most  wilful  of  moods  seemed, 
indeed,  my  lot;  and  to  go  on  through  life  unattached  to  my 
fellows,  appeared  my  fate.  I  remember  once  to  have  read 
in  some  French  author  that  the  attachment  we  feel  to  home, 
the  sacred  names  of  son  and  brother,  are  not  more  than  the 
instincts  of  habit ;  that  natural  affection,  as  it  is  called,  has 
no  real  existence ;  and  that  it  is  the  mere  force  of  repetition 
that  forms  the  tie  by  which  we  love  those  whom  we  call 
father  or  mother.  It  is  a  cold  and  a  cheerless  theory,  and 
yet  now  it  struck  me  with  a  certain  melancholy  satisfaction 
to  think  that,  save  in  the  name  of  parentage,  I  was  not 
worse  off  than  others. 

The  hours  glided  on  unnoticed  as  I  lay  thus  dreaming, 
and  night  at  last  fell,  dark  and  starless.  I  had  almost 
attained  to  a  kind  of  careless  indifference  as  to  my  future, 
when  the  mate,  coming  up  to  me,  said,  — 

"  Wake  up,  master  ;  we  're  going  to  put  you  ashore  here." 

I  made  no  answer :  half  in  recklessness,  half  in  pride,  I 
was  silent. 

"  You  'd  better  throw  my  boat-cloak  over  you.  It 's  blow- 
ing fresh,  and  a  heavy  sea  running,"  said  he,  in  a  kindly 
voice. 

"  Thanks,"  said  I,  declining ;  "  but  I  'm  little  used  to  care 
for  my  comforts.     Can  I  see  the  skipper?" 

"  He  told  me  that  he  preferred  not  to  see  you,"  said  the 
mate,  hesitatingly,  "  and  bade  me  arrange  for  putting  you 
ashore  myself." 

"It  is  a  question  of  money  —  not  of  politeness — with 
me,"  said  I,  producing  my  purse.  "Tell  me  what  I  owe 
him." 

"Not  a  farthing,  sir.  He  'd  not  touch  a  piece  of  money 
that  belonged  to  you.  He  only  wants  you  to  go  your  way, 
and  part  company  with  him." 

"Why  —  what  does  he  take  me  for?  What  means  this 
dread  of  me  ? " 

The  man  looked  confusedly  up  and  down,  to  either  hand, 
and  was  silent.     At  last  he  said,  — 

"  Come  ;  all  this  is  lost  time.  We  're  close  in  now.  Are 
you  ready,  sir?  " 


AT  SEA.  449 

"  Quite  ready,"  said  I,  rising,  and  following  him. 

The  boat's  crew  was  already  mustered,  and,  springing  into 
the  boat,  she  was  lowered  at  once ;  and  before  I  well  knew 
of  it,  we  were  plunging  through  a  heavy  sea,  by  the  force  of 
four  strong  oars. 

Through  the  darkness  and  the  showering  spray  we  went,  — 
now  rising  on  the  crest  of  some  swelling  wave,  now  diving 
down  between  the  foaming  cataracts.  I  never  asked  whither 
we  were  bound.  I  scarcely  wished  for  laud.  There  was 
something  so  exciting  in  the  sense  of  peril  about,  that  I  only 
desired  it  might  continue.  Such  a  relief  is  physical  dauger 
to  the  slow  and  cankering  disease  of  a  despairing  heart ! 


CHAPTER  XLI. 


A  long,  low  line  of  coast  loomed  through  the  darkness,  and 
towards  this  we  now  rowed  through  a  heavy,  breaking  surf. 
More  than  once  did  they  lie  on  their  oars  to  consult  as  to  the 
best  landing-place,  and  again  resume  then-  labor  as  before. 
At  last,  seeing  that  neither  creek  nor  inlet  presented  itself, 
they  made  straight  for  the  shore,  and  when  within  about 
thirty  paces  of  the  strand,  they  dropped  anchor  and  suffered 
the  boat  to  drift  into  shallow  water. 

"  There  now,  master,"  said  the  steersman  to  me,  "  you'll 
have  to  wet  your  feet,  for  we  can't  venture  further  in. 
Jump  over,   and  you  '11  soon  touch  land  again." 

I  obeyed  without  a  word,  and  ere  I  reached  the  shore  the 
boat  was  already  on  her  way  back  to  the  schooner.  As  I 
stood  gazing  on  the  dark  expanse  of  sea  before  me,  and  then 
turned  to  the  gloomy  outline  of  the  land,  I  felt  a  sense  of 
desolation  no  words  can  render.  I  had  not  the  very  vaguest 
notion  where  I  was.  So  far  as  I  could  see,  there  were  no 
traces  of  habitation  near;  and  as  I  wandered  inland,  the 
same  unbroken  succession  of  sand  hummocks  surrounded  me. 
How  strange  is  it  that  in  this  old  Europe  of  ours,  so  time- 
worn  by  civilization,  so  crossed  and  recrossed  by  man's 
labors,  how  many  spots  there  are  which,  in  this  wild  solitude, 
might  well  be  supposed  to  form  parts  of  Africa  or  distant 
America !  The  day  broke  to  find  me  still  wandering  along 
these  dreary  sand-hills  ;  but  to  my  great  delight  two  church 
towers  about  a  league  off  showed  me  that  a  village  was  near ; 
and  thither  I  now  proceeded  to  bend  my  steps. 

After  walking  about  a  mile  I  reached  a  high  road  which 
■evidently  led  to  the  village ;  and  now  it  became  necessary  to 
bethink  me  what  account  I  should  give  of  myself,  and  how 


LYS.  451 

explain  my  appearance  when  questioned,  as  I  inevitably 
should  be,  by  the  authorities. 

My  drenched  and  shrunk-up  clothes  and  my  way-worn 
look  might  well  have  warranted  the  story  of  a  shipwreck, 
and  for  some  minutes  I  had  almost  resolved  to  give  that 
version  of  my  calamity ;  but  I  was  so  weary  of  the  vicissi- 
tudes a  false  representation  involved,  so  actually  tired  out 
by  the  labor  of  sustaining  a  part  that  was  not  my  own,  that 
I  determined  to  take  no  heed  of  what  was  to  follow,  and 
leave  myself  to  the  chances  of  destiny,  without  a  struggle 
against  them. 

Fortune,  thought  I,  has  never  been  over  kind  to  me  when 
I  did  my  best  to  woo  her ;  let  me  see  if  a  little  indifference 
on  my  part  may  not  render  her  more  graciously  disposed. 
From  some  peasants  on  their  way  to  market  I  learned  that 
the  village  was  called  Lys,  and  was  on  the  high  road  to 
Montreuil.  At  all  events,  then,  I  was  in  France,  which  was 
almost  as  much  my  country  as  England,  and  with  even  so 
much  did  I  rally  my  spirits  and  encourage  my  hopes.  The 
country-people,  with  their  pack-mules,  stared  at  my  strange 
appearance,  and  evidently  wondered  what  manner  of  man  I 
might  be,  for  I  still  wore  my  full-dress  suit ;  and  my  lace 
ruffles  and  sabot,  however  discolored,  showed  undeniable 
signs  of  condition.  Many,  however,  saluted  me  respect- 
fully, and  touched  their  hats  as  to  one  of  rank  above  their 
own,  and  not  one  displayed  anything  approaching  levity 
or  a  jest  at  my  singular  exterior.  It  might  possibly  have 
been  the  secluded  character  of  the  spot  itself,  or  that  the 
recent  peace  with  England  had  brought  about  the  change ; 
but  whatever  the  cause,  neither  police  nor  gendarmerie  ques- 
tioned me  as  to  my  passport,  and  I  strolled  into  the  first 
cafe  that  presented  itself,  to  take  my  breakfast,  without 
hindrance  or  impediment. 

While  I  enjoyed  my  meal,  I  amused  myself  with  the 
newspapers,  at  that  time  filled  with  descriptions  of  festivi- 
ties and  court  receptions,  at  which  the  English  were  the  hon- 
ored guests.  Instead  of  the  accustomed  allusions  to  insular 
eccentricity,  awkwardness,  and  boorish  unsociality,  there 
were  nothing  but  praises  of  English  frankness  and  cordial 
simplicity.     I  saw  that  the  Government,  for  doubtless  good 


452  SIR   JASPER   CAREW. 

reasons  of  its  own,  had  given  the  initiative  to  this  new 
estimation  of  my  countrymen ;  and  resolved,  if  possible,  to 
reap  the  benefit  of  it,  I  repaired  to  the  Mairie  and  asked  to 
see  the  "  Maire."  In  a  few  words,  I  told  him  that  I  had  laid 
a  heavy  wager  to  travel  up  to  Paris  and  back  to  England 
without  a  passport ;  that  I  had  made  this  foolish  bet  at  a 
dinner-party,  which  I  quitted  to  accomplish  my  undertaking. 
My  intention  had  been  to  have  landed  at  Havre;  but,  by 
ill-luck,  we  were  driven  on  shore  to  the  north'ard,  and 
narrowly  escaped  shipwreck ;  from  which  having  saved  my- 
self, I  reached  Lys,  destitute  of  everything  save  a  small 
sum  of  money  I  carried  about  me.  I  told  this  story  with 
the  air  of  one  who  really  felt  that  any  impediment  to  so 
harmless  a  project  must  be  impossible,  and  with  such  suc- 
cess that  the  Maire  invited  me  into  his  drawing-room  to 
repeat  my  tale  to  his  family,  as  an  excellent  illustration  of 
the  length  to  which  English  eccentricity  could  go. 

My  manners,  the  facility  with  which  I  spoke  French,  my 
calm  assurance  of  not  requiring  any  other  aid  or  assistance 
than  the  friendly  offices  of  the  authorities,  so  gained  his 
favor  that  he  promised  to  think  over  the  matter,  and  give 
me  his  opinion  in  the  morning.  I  asked  for  no  more.  I 
was  not  impatient  to  get  forward ;  and  at  that  moment  the 
little  grass-grown  streets  and  alleys  of  Lys  were  as  pleasing 
to  me  as  the  most  fashionable  thoroughfares  of  a  o-reat 
city. 

He  did  not  send  for  me,  as  he  promised,  on  the  following 
morning.  A  second  day  and  a  third  passed  over  with  the 
same  results ;  and  still  I  remained  loitering  about  the  village 
and  making  acquaintance  with  every  notable  monument, 
from  its  quaint  old  church  to  the  little  obelisk  in  the  market- 
place, commemorating  the  birthplace  of  its  great  citizen,  the 
architect  Mansard. 

I  had  by  this  time  formed  two  or  three  slight  acquaint- 
anceships with  the  townsfolk,  who,  although  "living  on  a 
high  road  much  traversed  by  travellers,  were  a  simple- 
minded  and  maritime  set  of  people.  The  little  routine  of 
this  quaint  old  spot  also  pleased  me ;  and  I  persuaded  my- 
self that  I  should  ask  nothing  better  from  fortune  than  to 
be  able  to  pass  my  life  and  end  my  days  in  Lys.     Vast 


LYS.  453 

numbers  of  English  poured  daily  into  France  at  this  time ; 
and  it  was  one  of  my  chief  amusements  to  sit  at  the  little 
cafe  in  front  of  the  "  poste,"  and  watch  them  as  they 
changed  horses.  I  do  not  suppose  that  even  yet  our  coun- 
trymen escape  from  what  would  appear  to  be  the  almost 
inevitable  blunders  of  foreign  travel ;  but  at  the  time  I 
speak  of,  these  mistakes  and  misapprehensions  were  far 
greater.  The  Continent  and  its  languages  were  alike  new 
to  them.  National  peculiarities  were  all  more  marked,  and 
John  Bull  himself  less  compliant  and  more  exacting  than  he 
now  is. 

As  the  temper  and  tone  of  the  day  were,  however,  favor- 
able to  England,  and  as  Englishmen  were  remarkable  for 
the  liberality  of  their  payments  for  all  services  rendered 
them,  the  nation  was  popular,  and  whatever  errors  or  awk- 
wardness they  committed  were  speedily  forgotten  or  for- 
given. I  was  seated,  as  was  my  custom,  one  morning, 
watching  the  tide  of  travellers  that  rolled  by  unceasingly, 
when  a  large  travelling  carriage,  with  eight  horses  and  a 
mounted  courier  in  front,  drew  up  at  the  "poste."  While 
the  horses  were  being  harnessed,  two  gentlemen  descended, 
and,  crossing  the  "Place,"  entered  the  cafe.  One  was  a 
large,  full,  and  somewhat  handsome  man,  with  that  florid 
look  and  air  so  characteristic  of  an  English  country  squire ; 
the  other  I  had  not  time  to  remark  ere  he  came  up  to  me  and 
said,  — 

"  Happy  to  meet  you  again,  Mr.  Carew ;  I  trust  you  don't 
forget  me." 

It  was  Colonel  Canthorpe,  whom  I  had  met  at  O'Kellv's 
dinner-table. 

"This  chance  meeting  is  a  piece  of  good  fortune,"  con- 
tinued he,  "since  it  enables  me  to  pay  a  debt  I  owe  you. 
On  looking  over  my  memorandum-book,  I  discovered  I  had 
lost  three  hundred,  and  not  two,  to  you.     Am  I  correct?  " 

I  professed,  with  truth,  that  I  had  no  recollection  of  the 
matter,  nor  had  anything  to  guide  me  to  its  memory. 

"I'm  quite  positive  that  I'm  right,  however,"  said  he, 
"  and  you  must  allow  me  to  acquit  myself  of  the  obligation. 
Who  is  your  banker  at  Paris?" 

I  had  to  say  that  so  many  years  had  passed  over  since  J 
was  there,  I  really  had  not  thought  of  selecting  one. 


454  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

"  But  you  are  going  on  thither?  "  asked  he. 

"  Yes,  in  a  day  or  two ;  that  is,  as  soon  as  I  have  arranged 
a  difficulty  about  my  passport." 

"If  that's  the  only  thing  that  detains  you,"  said  he, 
"  pray  accept  of  mine.  In  travelling  with  my  friend  Mr. 
Fox,  I  need  none." 

I  turned  at  the  sound  of  the  name,  and  at  once  recognized, 
by  the  resemblance  to  the  prints,  the  bluff  and  manly  fea- 
tures of  the  great  leader  of  the  Opposition. 

"  This  is  our  famous  whist-player,  Fox,  Mr.  Carew,"  said 
Canthorpe,  presenting  me ;  and  the  other  rose  and  received 
me  most  courteously,  adding  some  little  compliments  on  my 
reputed  skill  at  the  game. 

While  we  were  yet  talking,  their  breakfast  made  its 
appearance,  and  I  was  invited  to  partake  of  the  meal,  —  a 
politeness  which  I  accepted  of  readily,  while  I  congratulated 
myself  by  thinking  that  up  to  this  time  at  least  O'Kelly  had 
not  divulged  the  secret  of  my  former  station. 

The  conversation  turned  principally  on  France  and  its  rela- 
tions with  England ;  and  I  was  surprised  to  find  the  great 
parliamentary  leader  so  little  acquainted  with  either  the  char- 
acter of  the  people  or  of  those  who  ruled  them.  He  seemed 
willing  to  accept  all  the  present  civil  overtures  as  guarantees 
of  lasting  and  cordial  friendship,  and  to  regard  as  an- 
tiquated and  unworthy  prejudices  those  expressions  of  dis- 
trust to  which,  in  my  more  intimate  knowledge  of  France,  I 
occasionally  gave  utterance. 

"Mr.  Carew's  whist  experiences,  I  perceive,"  said  he, 
"are  not  his  guides  in  politics.  He  will  not  trust  his 
partner." 

"  There  is  this  difference,"  said  I,  "  that  in  whist  you  sit 
opposite  to  your  ally :  in  politics,  as  in  war,  your  vis-a-vis 
is  your  enemy." 

"  For  my  part,"  said  he,  good-humoredly,  "I  think,  hav- 
ing fought  against  each  other  —  bravely  fought,  as  France 
and  England  have  —  is  one  of  the  very  best  elements  towards 
a  lasting  peace.  Each  must  by  this  time  have  attained  to 
a  proper  estimate  of  the  other ;  and  from  that  source  alone 
a  degree  of  respect  springs  up,  fit  to  become  the  foundation 
of  true  friendship." 

"Your  theory  excludes  all  notion  of  a  rivalry,  sir." 


LYS.  455 

"Rivalry  can  exist  only  between  small  states  or  individ- 
uals. Great  countries  have  great  ambitions,  and  these  are 
usually  above  mere  rivalries." 

I  have  quoted,  word  for  word,  the  expressions  he  made  use 
of,  less  for  any  importance  of  their  own  than  for  the  sake  of 
the  man  who  spoke  them.  They  were,  as  I  afterwards  came 
to  know,  specimens  of  that  careless  habit  of  talking  in  which 
he  constantly  indulged,  and  in  which  an  indolent  good- 
nature rather  swayed  him  than  the  use  of  those  fine  faculties 
of  judgment  he  so  eminently  possessed.  My  more  intimate 
acquaintance  with  France  and  its  language  gave  me  certain 
advantages  in  our  discussion  which  he  soon  perceived,  and 
he  questioned  me  closely  about  the  people  and  their  natural 
tendencies. 

Colonel  Canthorpe  came  twice  to  announce  that  the  horses 
were  ready,  and  yet  still  Mr.  Fox  stood,  inquiring  eagerly 
into  points  of  which  he  confessed  himself  quite  uninformed. 

"  How  glad  I  should  be,"  said  he,  "  to  have  an  opportu- 
nity of  continuing  this  conversation.  Is  there  any  chance  of 
our  meeting  at  Paris  ?  " 

I  owned  that  the  expression  of  his  wish  on  the  subject 
quite  decided  me  to  go  there. 

"On  what  day,  then,  may  I  expect  you?  Shall  we  say 
Saturday,  and  at  dinner?" 

"  Most  willingly,"  said  I,  "  if  I  can  accomplish  it." 

"As  to  the  passport,  nothing  easier,"  said  Canthorpe. 
"  This  is  mine  —  it  is  perfectly  regular  —  requires  no  vise; 
and  once  in  Paris,  my  friend  here  will  obtain  one  for  you  in 
your  own  name." 

"Just  so,"  said  Fox,  shaking  my  hand  cordially;  and 
repeating  "Saturday — Quillac's  Hotel,"  away  he  went, 
leaving  me  almost  incredulous  of  all  I  had  seen  and  been 
saying. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

THE   COMING    SHADOW. 

I  arrived  in  Paris  a  few  days  after,  and  took  up  my  abode  at 
the  HStel  Quillac,  then  one  of  the  most  splendid  in  the  capital. 
Mr.  Fox  and  Colonel  Canthorpe  received  me  most  courte- 
ously, willingly  accepting  my  guidance  in  their  visits  to  the 
various  objects  of  interest  that  this  glorious  city  contains. 
Such  a  knowledge  of  the  language  a,s  I  possessed  was  a  rarer 
gift  at  that  time  than  it  now  is,  when  education  and  foreign 
travel  are  so  widely  enjoyed ;  and  I  could  plainly  see  that 
they  regarded  their  chance  acquaintanceship  with  me  as  quite 
a  piece  of  good  fortune.  This  did  not,  however,  prevent 
their  feeling  —  as  I  could  perceive  they  felt  —  a  most  lively 
curiosity  as  to  what  might  have  been  my  former  life,  where 
it  had  been  passed,  and  how.  Too  well  bred  to  suffer  this 
anxiety  of  theirs  to  appear,  except  by  a  mere  accident,  yet  it 
was  evident  to  me,  by  a  hundred  little  circumstances,  how  it 
formed  a  constant  subject  of  conversation  between  them. 

I  am  far  from  implyiug  that  their  intercourse  with  me  was 
marked  by  anything  like  distrust  or  suspicion ;  on  the  con- 
trary, they  talked  freely  in  my  presence  on  every  subject, 
and  upon  politics  Mr.  Fox  especially  spoke  with  a  degree  of 
openness  that,  had  he  been  less  distinguished,  I  should  have 
presumed  to  call  indiscreet.  He  made  almost  daily  visits  at 
the  Tuileries,  and  never  hesitated,  on  his  return,  to  recount  to 
us  what  had  passed  between  the  First  Consul  and  himself. 

The  manly  character  of  the  English  statesman  contributed 
to  give  the  interviews  many  very  interesting  traits,  to  which 
also  his  imperfect  knowledge  of  French  lent  several  amusing 
features.  Were  I  not  afraid  of  repeating  well-known  anec- 
dotes, I  should  avail  myself  of  this  opportunity  to  recall  some 
instances  of  these.     At  all  events,  I  am  happy  to  have  the 


THE  COMING  SHADOW.  457 

occasion  of  saying  that  the  veriest  Tory  that  ever  inveighed 
against  France  never  had  a  more  thoroughly  English  heart 
and  spirit  than  Charles  Fox.  1  have  seen  it  imputed  to  him 
that  in  his  partisanship  he  would  willingly  have  accepted  a 
dishonorable  peace,  and  made  common  cause  with  the  First 
Consul  on  any  terms ;  and  I  affirm  that  I  am  in  a  position  to 
refute  this  foul  charge,  and  prove  it  a  calumny. 

Neither,  as  was  asserted  at  the  time,  did  the  unquestion- 
able fascination  of  Bonaparte's  manner  gain  a  complete 
ascendancy  over  the  Englishman's  less-cultivated  tact.  It 
is  true  he  came  back  —  as  who  would  not  ?  —  from  these 
meetings  amazed  at  the  extensive  knowledge,  the  vast  ac- 
quirements, and  the  profound  sagacity  of  that  great  man ; 
nor  did  he  hesitate  to  own  that  even  these  were  thrown  into 
the  shade  by  the  charms  of  his  manner  and  the  captivation 
of  an  address  which  I  believe  at  that  period  had  reached  its 
very  point  of  perfection. 

An  attack  of  gout  confined  Mr.  Fox  for  some  time  to  his 
room,  and  thus  interfered  with  the  progress  of  an  intimacy 
that  might  be  fairly  called  friendship.  Who  can  say  now 
how  far  the  highest  interests  of  mankind,  the  fortunes  of  the 
whole  world,  may  not  have  been  influenced  by  that  casual 
indisposition !  It  is  certain  that  Fox  had  already  been  able 
to  disabuse  Bonaparte's  mind  with  regard  to  a  variety  of 
things  in  which  he  judged  erroneously.  He  had  succeeded 
in  setting  him  right  on  several  points  of  our  national  spirit 
and  the  spirit  of  our  constitution.  He  had  even  done  much 
towards  convincing  him  that  England  was  not  inspired  with 
an  insane  hatred  to  France,  and  would  willingly  live  at  peace 
with  her,  only  asking  that  a  peace  should  have  guarantees 
for  its  duration,  and  not  be,  as  it  but  too  often  is,  but  the 
interval  of  preparation  for  war.  I  say  then  again  what  a 
change  might  there  have  been  to  the  destinies  of  mankind, 
had  this  intercourse  gone  on  uninterruptedly !  How  differ- 
ently might  Bonaparte  have  learned  to  regard  and  consider 
Englishmen,  and  what  allowances  might  he  not  have  come  to 
make  for  peculiarities  purely  national ! 

How  naturally  might  a  great  intelligence  like  his  have 
seen  that  the  alliance  of  two  such  nations  is  the  guarantee 
of  civilization  throughout  the  globe,  and  that  all  our  smaller 


458  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

rivalries  and  national  jealousies  sink  to  insignificance  when 
viewed  in  presence  of  the  great  perils  to  which  disunion 
exposes  us,  —  perils  that,  at  the  hour  in  which  I  write  these 
lines,  are  neither  vague  nor  visionary,  and  against  which  an 
honest  and  cordial  alliance  can  alone  prevail.  Let  it  be 
taken  as  the  tremulous  terror  of  an  old  man's  mind  if  I  add, 
that  even  banded  together,  and  with  all  their  energies  to  the 
task,  they  will  not  be  more  than  enough  for  the  work  that  is 
before  them. 

I  have  spoken  of  the  friendly  reception  I  met  with  from 
Mr.  Fox.  I  dined  constantly  with  him  and  Colonel  Can- 
thorpe  alone,  and  accompanied  them  frequently  on  their 
evening  visits  amongst  their  acquaintances.  I  joined  in 
everything,  even  to  the  high  play  which  they  both  were  pas- 
sionately devoted  to,  and  lost  and  won  without  any  decisive 
results.  Meanwhile  my  resources  ran  lower  and  lower. 
The  style  of  living  I  maintained  was  costly ;  and  at  the  end 
of  some  weeks  I  saw  myself  with  barely  sufficient  to  carry 
me  through  another  fortnight.  To  this  very  hour  I  cannot 
explain  to  myself  the  calm  indifference  with  which  I  contem- 
plated my  approaching  and  inevitable  ruin.  I  really  know 
nothing  of  the  flatteries  by  which  I  may  have  beguiled  my 
own  heart,  and  am  left  to  the  conclusion  that  the  intoxicat- 
ing pleasures  of  the  time  had  rendered  me  insensible  to  every 
thought  for  the  future.  I  went  further,  too,  than  might  be 
supposed  possible.  I  accepted  invitations  to  shoot  in  Scot- 
land, and  pass  my  Christmas  at  Canthorpe's  seat  in  Cumber- 
land, promising  everything  with  the  ease  of  one  free  to 
dispose  of  himself  as  he  fancied. 

Meanwhile  time  went  on.  I  had  asked  Mr.  Fox  and 
Canthorpe  to  dine  with  me  at  the  Fleur-de-Pois,  outside  the 
barrier.  It  was  a  celebrated  restaurant  of  those  times,  as 
distinguished  for  the  excellence  of  its  wine  as  the  perfection 
of  its  cookery.  I  had  often  given  myself  the  airs  of  con- 
noisseurship  in  these  matters,  and  I  was  resolved  that  my 
entertainment  should  not  disparage  my  taste. 

More  than  one  morning  had  I  passed  in  council  over  the 
bill  of  fare,  discussing  the  order  of  the  courses,  canvassing 
the  appropriate  sauces,  and  tasting  the  various  wines.  It 
was  to  be  a  "  Diner  a  soixante  francs  par  tete ;  "  the  reader 


THE  COMING  SHADOW.  459 

may  imagine  the  rest.  I  knew  that  my  friends  were  un- 
acquainted with  the  repute  this  house  enjoyed,  and  I  con- 
gratulated myself  in  fancying  the  surprise  they  would  feel 
at  the  unexpected  perfection  of  every  arrangement  within 
doors.  I  went  down  early  on  the  morning  of  the  eventful 
day  to  see  that  everything  was  in  readiness.  All  was  perfect ; 
the  table  was  decorated  with  the  choicest  flowers,  amidst 
which  an  ornamental  dessert  lay  scattered,  as  it  were.  The 
temperature  of  the  room,  the  lighting,  all  were  cared  for ; 
and  I  returned  to  Paris  fully  satisfied  that  nothing  had  been 
omitted  or  forgotten.  Instead,  however,  of  repairing  to  my 
hotel,  I  went  to  a  small  restaurant  near  the  Luxembourg  to 
breakfast,  and  'lounged  afterwards  at  the  gardens  there, 
intending  to  keep  myself  "up"  for  the  evening,  and  not 
dissipate  any  of  those  conversational  resources  I  wished  to 
hoard  for  the  hours  of  conviviality.  The  reader  may  well 
smile  at  the  inconsistency  of  the  man  who  could  so  collect- 
edly devise  a  few  hours  of  pleasure,  and  yet  face  the  whole 
future  without  a  moment's  thought  or  deliberation  !  Towards 
five  o'clock  I  sauntered  slowly  back  to  the  hotel. 

"  A  note  for  you,  sir,"  said  the  porter,  presenting  me 
with  a  letter  as  I  entered.  "The  gentleman  said  it  was  to 
be  given  to  you  the  moment  you  came  in." 

I  took  it  with  a  strange,  half-sickening  sense  of  coming 
evil.     I  broke  the  seal,  and  read :  — 

Crillan,  Three  o'clock. 
Dear    C,  —  We  are  off  for  England  at  a  moment's  warning, 
and  have  only  time  to  counsel  you  to  the  same.     There  is  some 

mischief  brewing,  and  the  d d  Tories  are  likely  to  involve  us 

in  another  war.  Keep  this  to  yourself.  Get  your  passport  ready, 
and  let  us  soon  see  you  across  the  water.  With  many  regrets 
from  F.  and  myself  at  the  loss  of  your  good  dinner  to-day,  believe 
me  Yours  truly, 

George  Caxthorpe. 

The  whole  fabric  in  which  I  had  been  living  for  weeks 
past  fell  at  once  to  the  ground ;  all  the  illusions  of  my 
daily  existence  were  suddenly  swept  away ;  and  there  I 
stood  in  presence  of  my  own  heart,  —  a  poor  bankrupt  pre- 
tender, without  one  to  know  or  acknowledge  him ! 

I  hastened  to  my  room  and  sat  down.,  for  some  minutes 


460  SIR   JASPER   CAKEW. 

actually  overwhelmed  by  the  chaotic  flood  of  thought  that 
now  poured  through  my  brain.  Very  little  calm  consider- 
ation would  have  shown  me  that  my  real  condition  in  life 
had  undergone  no  change,  that  I  stood  precisely  as  I  had 
done  the  day  before,  —  a  ruined,  houseless  adventurer ! 
With  a  little  reflection,  too,  it  is  not  impossible  I  might 
have  congratulated  myself  that  my  separation  had  not  been 
brought  about  by  any  disgraceful  discovery  of  my  actual 
rank  in  life,  and  that  I  had  escaped  the  humiliation  of  an 
exposure.  These  thoughts  came  later ;  for  the  moment  all 
was  sadness  and  gloomy  depression. 

The  waiter  entered  to  say  that  the  carriage  Monsieur  had 
ordered  was  at  the  door,  and  it  took  me  some  minutes  to 
recall  my  mind  to  the  fact,  and  to  remember  that  I  had 
ordered  a  carriage  to  convey  us  to  the  restaurant.  "Be 
it  so,"  said  I  to  myself,  "  let  us  play  out  the  comedy ;  "  and 
with  this  resolve  I  proceeded  to  dress  myself  for  dinner  with 
all  the  elegance  I  could  bestow  on  my  toilet. 

Had  I  been  about  to  dine  at  court,  I  could  not  have  been 
more  particular.  My  sabot  and  ruffles  were  of  the  finest 
"Valenciennes;  "  my  vest  was  white  satin,  richly  embroid- 
ered with  gold ;  and  the  hilt  of  my  sword  glittered  with 
marqueseta  and  turquoise.  I  took  a  look  at  myself  in  the 
glass,  and  almost  started  back  as  I  saw  the  contrast  be- 
tween this  finery  of  my  apparel  and  the  haggard  expression 
of  my  features;  for  though  my  cheek  was  flushed  and  my 
eyes  sparkled,  my  mouth  was  drawn  down,  and  my  thin, 
parched  lips  denoted  fever.  There  was  that  in  my  looks 
that  actually  scared  myself. 

"  To  the  Fleur-de-Pois,"  said  I,  throwing  myself  back  in 
the  carriage ;  and  away  we  drove  along  the  crowded  Boule- 
vard, many  an  eye  turned  on  the  foppish  figure  that  lounged 
so  elegantly  in  his  carriage,  never  suspecting  the  while  what 
the  tone  of  his  thoughts  at  that  moment  was,  and  that  he 
was  gravely  canvassing  within  himself  the  strange  stories 
that  would  circulate  on  the  morrow,  should  his  body  be 
taken  up  in  the  "  Filets  de  St.  Cloud."  True  was  it,  the 
dark  and  muddy  Seine,  the  cold,  fast-flowing  river,  was 
never  out  of  my  thoughts.  It  swept,  torrent-like,  through 
all  my  reasoning,  and  the  surging  water  seemed  to  rise  and 


THE   COMING   SHADOW.  461 

swell  around  nie.  At  that  moment  short,  fitful  thoughts  of 
the  long  past  shot  through  my  mind ;  and  my  mother,  and 
Raper,  and  Margot  too,  came  and  went  before  me.  Where 
were  all  the  teachings  of  my  infancy  now ;  where  the  holy 
aspirations  of  my  early  boyhood ;  where  the  simple  tastes 
and  lowly  desires,  the  home  affections  and  blest  humility 
I  once  loved  to  dream  over ;  where  that  calm  existence, 
so  bounded  by  easy  ambitions ;  and  where,  above  all, 
that  honesty  of  life  that  spurned  every  thought  of  decep- 
tion? "A  meet  ending  for  such  a  career,"  said  I,  bitterly, 
as  I  gazed  down  on  the  river  along  whose  bank  we  were  driv- 
ing. "Ay,"  thought  I,  as  we  passed  along,  "there  is  not 
one  so  miserable  nor  so  poor  with  whom  I  would  not  change 
places,  only  that  this  mockery  should  cease,  and  that  I 
should  be  something  to  my  own  heart  besides  a  cheat." 

The  day  suddenly  grew  overcast,  the  clouds  massed  them- 
selves heavily  together,  and  the  rain  began  to  descend  in 
torrents.  When  we  reached  the  restaurant  the  storm  had 
become  a  hurricane,  and  all  who  had  been  preparing  to  dine 
through  the  arbors  of  the  garden  were  quickly  driven  to 
seek  shelter  within  doors.  As  I  descended  from  the  carriage, 
all  was  tumult  and  confusion ;  for  although  every  available 
spot  had  been  given  up  to  the  guests,  yet  from  their  num- 
bers they  were  crowded  together  most  uncomfortably,  and 
loud  and  angry  complaints  and  remonstrances  were  heard 
on  all  sides.  In  vain  the  waiters  heard  patiently  or  an- 
swered courteously  the  various  discontents  of  those  who 
appealed  to  their  rank  and  station  as  claims  for  special  con- 
sideration. Distinguished  generals,  ministers,  great  leaders 
of  fashion,  were  all  condemned  to  the  same  indiscriminate 
fortune  of  humbler  natures. 

From  where  I  sat  in  the  little  salon  reserved  for  myself, 
I  could  overhear  these  complaints  and  remonstrances,  and 
it  was  in  a  kind  of  savage  irony  with  Fortune  that  I  be- 
thought  me  of  my  sumptuous  lot  in  comparison  with  the 
discomforts  of  those  around  me.  Twice  or  thrice  was  my 
door  flung  open  by  persons  in  search  of  an  apartment,  ami 
in  this  confusion  and  shame  I  revelled  as  in  a  momentary 
triumph.  At  Length,  in  an  interval  of  comparative  quiet, 
I   thought  I  heard  voices  whispering  outside  my  door.     I 


462  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

listened,  and  could  distinguish  that  they  were  female  ac- 
cents, and  discussing,  as  it  seemed,  some  project  on  which 
they  were  not  agreed.  One  appeared  to  insist  as  eagerly 
as  the  other  was  bent  upon  opposing ;  and  the  words, 
"Mais  oui,"  "Mais  non,"  followed  in  quick  succession.  I 
know  not  how  it  was,  but  I  conceived  a  most  intense  curi- 
osity to  learn  the  subject  of  the  discussion.  I  felt  as  if  I 
must  have  some  share  or  concern  in  the  matter,  and  eagerly 
bent  my  ear  to  hear  further.  Nor  was  I  wrong.  The  ques- 
tion argued  was,  whether  or  not  the  two  ladies  should  ap- 
peal to  the  gallantry  of  the  occupant  of  the  room  to  afford 
them  shelter  till  such  time  as  their  carriage  might  arrive 
to  fetch  them  for  Paris.  She  who  spoke  with  more  au- 
thority was  in  favor  of  the  appeal,  while  the  younger  voice 
expressed  dissent  to  it. 

Being  in  a  measure  a  party  to  the  cause,  I  resolved  to 
lend  what  influence  I  might  possess  towards  the  decision; 
and  so,  flinging  wide  the  door,  I  saluted  the  strangers  cour- 
teously, and  informing  them  that  I  had  accidentally  over- 
heard their  discussion,  begged  they  would  permit  me  to 
decide  it  by  placing  my  apartment  at  their  disposal  at 
once.  The  elder  of  the  two  immediately  addressed  me  in 
a  tone  and  manner  that  bespoke  a  person  of  condition,  ac- 
cepting my  hospitality,  but  only  on  the  condition  that  I 
myself  should  remain,  for  I  had  made  a  gesture  indicative 
of  departure.  The  younger,  with  a  veil  closely  drawn 
across  her  face,  courtesied  without  speaking.  I  at  once 
acceded,  and  placing  chairs  for  my  guests,  requested  them 
to  be  seated. 

The  waiter  at  length  made  his  appearance  to  say  dinner 
was  ready  "whenever  Monsieur  desired  it."  This  was  a 
new  difficulty,  and  I  really  felt  much  embarrassed  by  it. 
Resolving,  however,  to  adopt  the  bold  course,  I  hastily 
apologized  for  the  great  liberty  I  was  about  to  take,  and 
after  briefly  explaining  the  departure  of  the  two  friends  I 
had  expected,  begged  they  would  allow  me  to  believe  that 
Fortune  had  really  been  kind  to  me  for  once,  in  replacing 
them. 

A  sign  of  half-impatience  by  the  younger  was  speedily 
corrected  by  the  other,  as  she  said,  — 


THE  \\ 

UNIVERSITY  jj 

THE  COMING  SHADOW.  463 

"  Monsieur  forgets  that  we  are  strangers  to  each  other." 

But  there  was  nothing  like  rebuke  in  the  tone  she  spoke 
in  ;  but  rather,  as  I  thought,  a  suggestive  hint  thrown  out 
to  provoke  some  effort  at  explanation  on  my  part.  I  was 
right  in  this  conjecture,  as  I  speedily  saw  by  the  degree  of 
attention  she  vouchsafed  me. 

Perhaps  if  I  had  had  a  better  cause,  I  should  not  have 
pleaded  so  successfully.  I  mean,  that  if  I  had  been  really 
the  owner  of  a  high  name  and  station,  it  is  just  possible  I 
might  not  so  ably  have  combated  the  difficulty  of  the 
situation. 

"  At  all  events,"  said  the  elder  lady,  "  Monsieur  has  one 
•advantage  :  he  knows  who  we  are." 

"  I  shame  to  say,  Madame,"  said  I,  bowing  low,  "  that,  in 
my  ignorance  of  Paris,  I  have  not  that  honor." 

"  Indeed  !  "  cried  she,  half  incredulously. 

"It  is  quite  true,  Madame ;  I  have  been  but  a  few  days 
here,  and  have  no  acquaintance  whatever." 

They  now  spoke  to  each  other  for  a  few  seconds ;  and 
after  what  seemed  strong  persuasion,  the  younger  turned 
away  to  remove  her  bonnet. 

"  We  have,  then,  no  right  to  exact  any  concession  from 
Monsieur,"  said  the  elder  lady,  "  seeing  that  we  preserve 
our  own  secret." 

I  could  not  but  assent  to  this  doctrine,  and  had  just  ac- 
knowledged it,  when  the  younger  turned  abruptly  round, 
uttering  a  half  cry  of  amazement. 

"Margot!"  exclaimed  I;  for  it  was  she.  But  already 
had  she  buried  her  face  between  her  hands,  and  refused  to 
look  up. 

"What  means  this?"  said  the  elder,  sternby,  to  me. 
"Do  you  know  this  young  lady?" 

"  I  did  so,  once,  Madame,"  said  I,  sorrowfully. 

••  Well,  sir?"  replied  she,  proudly,  and  as  if  desiring  me 
to  finish  my  speech. 

"  Yes,  Madame.  I  knew  her  as  a  child  in  her  grand- 
father's house.  I  was  scarcely  more  than  a  boy  myself  at 
the  time;  but  had  the  interval  been  four  times  as  great,  I 
could  not  forget  all  that  I  owe  to  his  kindness  ami  to  hers." 

I  could  scarcely  utter  the  last  words  from  emotion.     The 


464  SIR   JASPER   CAREW. 

child  Margot  —  a  beautiful  woman,  graceful  and  fascinat- 
ing—  now  stood  before  me,  chauged,  but  still  the  same ; 
her  dark  eyes  darker  and  more  meaning;  her  fair  brow 
expanded  and  more  lofty. 

"  You  know  my  story?"  asked  she,  in  a  low,  soft  voice.' 

"  Yes,  Margot.  And  oftentimes  in  my  saddest  hours 
have  I  sought  excitement  and  relief  in  the  thought  of  your 
triumphs  —  " . 

"  There,  child,  —  there  !  "  exclaimed  the  elder,  enthusiasti- 
cally, "there  is  at  least  one  who  can  prize  the  glorious 
ambitions  of  the  scene,  and  knows  how  to  appreciate  the 
successes  of  high  art.  Stand  not  abashed  before  him,  child ; 
he  comes  not  here  as  your  accuser." 

"Is  it  so  indeed?  "  cried  Margot,  entreatingly. 

"  Oh,  if  you  but  knew,  Margot,  how  proudly  I  have  often 
pondered  over  our  hours  of  the  past,  —  now  fancying  that  in 
my  teachings  of  those  days  some  germ  of  that  high  ambition 
you  have  tried  to  reach  may  then  have  been  dropped  into 
your  heart ;  now  wondering  if  in  your  successes  some  memory 
of  me  might  have  survived.  If  you  but  knew  this,  Margot, 
you  would  soon  see  how  this  bright  moment  of  our  meeting 
repays  all  the  sorrows  of  a  life  long." 

"  I  am  in  the  third  act  of  the  drama,"  said  the  elder  lady, 
smiling.  "  Pray  let  me  into  the  secret  of  the  piece.  Where, 
when,  and  how  were  you  first  acquainted?  " 

Margot  looked  at  me  to  speak ;  but  I  returned  her  glance 
so  entreatingly  that,  taking  her  friend's  hand  between  her 
own,  she  seated  her  at  her  side  and  began. 

AVhile  she  narrated  the  story  of  our  first  meeting,  I  had 
full  time  to  look  at  her,  and  see  the  changes  a  few  years  had 
made.  Beautiful  as  she  had  been  in  childhood,  far  more 
lovely  was  she  now  in  the  grace  of  developed  beauty.  Her 
art,  too,  had  cultivated  expression  to  its  very  highest  point, 
yet  without  exaggerating  a  trait  of  her  features ;  the  tones 
of  her  voice  had  in  them  a  melody  I  had  never  heard 
before ;  and  I  hung  on  her  very  utterance  as  though  it  were 
music ! 

I  dare  not  trust  myself  to  recall  more  of  that  scene : 
already  are  emotions  struggling  within  me,  the  conflict  of 
which  this  poor  shattered  heart  is  not  equal  to.     The  great 


THE   COMING   SHADOW.  465 

trials  of  life  are  often  easier  burdens  to  memory  than  some 
flitting  moment  of  passionate  existence,  some  one  brief  hour 
of  mingled  hope  and  fear. 

Margot's  friend  —  it  was  Mademoiselle  Mars  herself  —  felt 
the  liveliest  interest  in  the  story  of  our  first  meeting,  my 
boyish  duel  and  —  why  should  I  not  say  it?  —  my  boyish 
love.  She  took  pleasure  in  hearing  of  every  indication 
of  that  genius  in  infancy  which  she  had  seen  so  splen- 
didly displayed  in  womanhood,  and  asked  me  for  traits  of 
Margot's  childhood  with  the  greatest  eagerness. 

Margot  —  the  first  excitement  over  —  seemed  sad  and 
dispirited ;  she  even  showed  impatience  once  or  twice  as 
Mademoiselle  Mars  insisted  on  hearing  some  little  incident 
of  childhood,  and  then  abruptly  said,  — 

"  And  you,  Monsieur,  how  has  the  world  treated  you  since 
we  met  ? " 

"  Not  so  flatteringly;  I  am  not  spoiled  by  Fortune." 

"  Xor  am  I,"  said  she,  hastily  taking  up  my  words. 

"  No,  dearest,  that  you  are  not,"  cried  the  other.  "  You 
are  as  first  I  knew  you,  generous,  warm-hearted,  and  kind." 

"I  mean,"  said  Margot,  "that  these  successes  have  not 
made  me  vain  nor  proud  ;  that  I  know  how  to  esteem  them 
at  their  true  price,  and  feel,  moreover,  how  in  my  heart  there 
lives  a  spirit  above  all  this  loud-tongued  flattery." 

Mademoiselle  Mars  looked  at  me  while  she  spoke,  and 
I  thought  that  her  eyes  conveyed  the  strangest  meaning. 
There  was  admiration,  indeed,  but  blended  with  something 
of  tender  pity  and  compassion.  What  would  I  not  have 
given  to  have  been  able  to  read  this  glance  aright !  No  time 
was  given  me  to  think  on  the  theme,  for  Margot  now, 
with  a  kind  of  half  impetuous  curiosity,  asked  me  for  my 
adventures. 

"  Tell  us  all,  everything,"  said  she,  laughingly,  —  "  your 
successes,  your  failures,  your  hopes,' your  loves,  your  joys 
and  sorrows.  I  am  eager  to  hear  if  Fortune  has  not  dealt 
more  generously  by  you  than  me.  This  splendid  prepara- 
tion here  "  —  and  she  pointed  to  the  dinner-table  —  "  would 
seem  to  say  much." 

"  The  story  will  tell  better  at  table,"  said  I,  gayly,  and 
not  sorry  to  relieve  the  awkwardness  of  the  moment  by  any 

30 


•166  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

new  incident ;  and  with  this  I  ordered  dinner  at  once.  As 
course  succeeded  course  of  the  magnificent  repast,  I  could 
not  help  feeling  what  a  singular  preface  was  all  this  splendor 
to  the  confession  that  was  to  follow  it,  and  how  oddly  would 
it  tell  that  the  host  of  such  a  feast  was  without  a  sou  in 
the  world.  Our  spirits  rose  as  dinner  went  on.  We  talked 
together  like  old  friends  who  had  met  yesterday ;  we  dis- 
cussed passing  topics  —  all  the  news  of  the  day  —  lightly 
and  amusingly ;  we  jested  and  laughed,  with  all  the  light- 
hearted  gayety  of  unburdened  spirits ;  nor  can  I  remember 
anything  more  brilliant  than  the  flow  of  wit  and  pleasantry 
that  went  on  amongst  us. 

What  strange  mysterious  link  unites  our  lowest  moment  of 
despair  with  a  wild  and  almost  headlong  joyousness,  making 
of  the  darkness  of  our  souls  a  fitting  atmosphere  for  the 
lightning  play  of  fancy  and  the  bright  coruscations  of  wit ! 
But  an  hour  back,  and  never  was  depression  deeper  than 
my  own ;  and  now  my  brain  abounded  with  bright-hued 
thoughts  and  pleasant  imaginings. 

It  was  late  when  the  carriage  arrived,  and  we  returned  to 
Paris  to  finish  the  evening  at  Mademoiselle  Mars'  lodgings 
in  the  Rue  de  Choiseul.  The  little  salons,  furnished  with  a 
consummate  taste  and  elegance,  were  crowded  with  visitors, 
as  we  reached  them,  —  artists,  authors,  musicians,  theatrical 
people  of  every  kind  and  sort,  with  a  sprinkling  of  the  higher 
world,  admitted  as  a  rare  favor  to  these  "  Saturdays." 

It  was  in  the  fascination  of  this  very  class  of  society  that 
Margot  had  originally  conceived  her  passion  for  the  stage. 
It  was  in  their  enthusiasm  for  her  genius  and  their  admira- 
tion of  her  beauty  she  had  first  tasted  the  ambitious  longing 
for  fame  and  applause  ;  and  it  was  still  here  that  she  revelled, 
as  in  a  charmed  existence,  —  here  sought  the  inspirations 
that  quickened  her  spirit  to  its  proudest  darings,  and  nerved 
her  heart  for  efforts  almost  beyond  human  strength. 

I  had  but  to  see  her  for  a  moment  in  the  midst  of  this 
adulation  to  comprehend  the  whole  history  of  her  life.  The 
poet  brought  his  verses,  the  musician  his  strains,  the  sculp- 
tor laid  his  own  image  of  herself  at  her  feet;  the  most 
rapturous  verses,  the  most  polished  flatteries,  met  her  as  she 
entered.     Mademoiselle  Mars  herself  swelled  the  chorus  of 


THE   COMING  SHADOW.  467 

these  praises,  and  seemed  prouder  in  the  triumphs  of  her 
protegee  than  she  had  ever  been  in  her  own.  Margot  ac- 
cepted all  this  homage  as  a  queen  might  have  done.  She 
received  it  as  a  tribute  that  was  due,  and  of  which  none 
dared  to  defraud  her.  Shall  I  own  that  if  at  first  a  modest 
humility  and  a  girlish  diffidence  had  been  more  gratifying 
to  me  to  witness,  yet,  as  the  hours  wore  on,  not  only  had 
I  accustomed  myself  to  bear  with,  but  I  actually  felt  myself 
joining  in  that  same  spirit  of  adulation  which  seemed  so 
meetly  offered  at  this  shrine? 

What  sad  repinings,  what  terrible  self-reproaches  come 
over  me  as  I  write  these  lines !  My  thoughts  all  turn  to  the 
very  darkest,  and  yet  the  most  brilliant,  moment  of  my  life : 
the  brightest  in  all  its  actual  splendor  and  delight,  —  the 
gloomiest  in  its  dreary  memory!  Lest  these  fancies  should 
master  me,  I  will  pursue  my  story  rapidly,  coldly,  apatheti- 
cally, if  I  may.  I  will  not  suffer  a  word,  if  I  can  help  it, 
to  escape  me  that  may  unman  me  for  my  task,  now  all  but 
completed.  I  suppose  that  no  man  can  write  of  himself 
without  becoming  more  or  less  his  own  apologist.  Even  in 
his  self-accusings  there  will  be  mingled  a  degree  of  com- 
miseration, and  his  judgments  will  be  found  tempered  with 
merciful  considerations.  I  would  that  I  were  capable  of 
something  better,  bolder,  and  more  manly  than  this.  I 
would  that  others  might  learn  of  my  "  short-comings,"  and 
be  taught  by  my  "  over-reachings  "  !  But  though  I  cannot 
point  the  moral,  I  will  tell  the  tale. 

Margot  —  it  was  the  caprice  of  the  moment  —  presented 
me  to  the  society  as  her  cousin.  I  was  the  Chevalier  de 
Bertin,  of  good  family  and  ample  fortune.  "  Passionne 
pour  les  arts,"  as  she  said,  "  and  the  devoted  slave  of 
genius."  The  introduction  was  well  calculated  to  insure  me 
a  favorable  reception ;  and  so  it  proved.  I  was  at  once- 
admitted  into  all  the  masonry  of  the  craft.  The  "  coulisses" 
of  every  theatre  were  open  to  me ;  the  private  box  of  the 
prima  donna,  the  editorial  sanctum,  the  dressing-room  where 
the  great  actress  received  her  chosen  few,  and  the  little 
supper-table,  at  which  a  place  would  have  been  a  boon  to 
royalty,  —  all  were  mine.  To  support  mj'self,  and  maintain 
a  condition  proportionate  to  my  pretended  rank,  I  labored 


468  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

immensely.  I  wrote  for  no  less  than  four  of  the  great 
journals  of  Paris.  I  was  the  leading  political  writer  in  the 
Bonapartist  "Presse,"  the  royalist  in  the  "Gazette  de  la 
Vendee,"  and  the  infuriated  defender  of  the  Girondins  in 
the  terrible  columns  of  "  Le  Drapeau  de  Pays,"  theatrical 
and  literary  criticism  being  my  walk  in  the  pages  of  the 
"  Avant  Scene." 

Two  persons  only  were  in  my  secret, —  Sanson,  the  sub- 
editor of  the  "  Presse,"  and  Jostard,  who  was  a  royalist  agent, 
and  who  paid  with  a  liberal  hand  all  the  advocates  of  the 
Bourbons.  My  intimate  knowledge  of  the  secret  history  of 
party,  my  acquaintance  with  political  characters  personally, 
and,  above  all,  my  information  on  England  and  English 
topics,  gave  me  enormous  advantages,  and  many  of  my 
contributions  were  attributed  to  persons  high  in  political 
station,  and  speaking  the  sentiments  of  authority.  I  was 
well  versed  in  the  slashing  insolence  of  the  military  style  in 
which  the  Bonapartists  wrote,  and  knew  all  the  cant  of  the 
Jesuit,  as  well  as  the  chosen  phraseology  of  the  wildest 
republican.  In  this  way  I  attacked  and  replied  to  myself 
vindictively,  and  even  savagely.  Assault  and  counter-at- 
tack, insulting  demands  and  still  more  insulting  replies, 
issued  forth  each  morning  to  amaze  the  capital,  and  make 
men  ask  how  long  could  such  a  polemic  be  sustained  with- 
out personal  vengeance? 

In  my  Bonapartist  capacity  I  assailed  Pitt  unceasingly. 
It  was  the  theme  of  which  that  party  never  wearied,  and  in 
which  all  their  hatred  to  England  could  be  carried  without 
openly  wounding  the  susceptibilities  of  the  nation.  If  I 
assailed  the  covert  treachei-y  of  the  English  minister  by  the 
increased  activity  in  the  dockyards  during  a  state  of  peace, 
I  hailed  that  very  sign  in  a  Bourbonist  article  as  an  evidence 
that  the  cause  of  the  exiled  family  had  not  been  abandoned 
in  Great  Britain;  while  in  the  "Drapeau"  I  turned  at- 
tention to  the  glorious  struggle  for  freedom  then  sustained 
by  the  blacks  of  St.  Domingo  under  the  chivalrous  guid- 
ance of  Toussaint,  openly  declaring  that  with  the  negro  lay 
at  that  moment  the  whole  destiny  of  all  Europe. 

One  of  these  articles  —  I  wrote  it  half  wild  with  the  excite- 
ment of  a  supper  at  the  Rue  Choiseul ;  I  came  home  nearly 


THE  COMING   SHADOW.  469 

distracted  by  a  quarrel  with  a  Martogard  —  I  cannot  con- 
tinue—  was  headed  "  Noir  au  Blanc,"  and  was  an  insulting 
comparison  between  "  Negro  Chivalry  and  the  White  Man's 
Subserviency."  An  outrageously  insolent  contrast  of  Bona- 
parte with  Toussaint  closed  the  paper,  and  occasioned  a 
police  visit  to  the  office  of  the  journal,  demanding  the  name 
and  address  of  the  writer.  Of  these  the  editor  knew  nothing  ; 
and  though  he  succeeded  in  establishing  his  innocence,  the 
journal  was  declared  to  be  suppressed,  and  a  heavy  fine 
imposed  upon  its  conductors.  I  was  resolved,  at  whatever 
sacrifice,  to  pay  this,  and  consulted  with  Sanson  how  best  to 
set  about  it.  My  receipts  at  that  time  were  as  follows  : 
from  the  "  Presse "  sixty  francs  daily;  fifty  from  the 
"Vendee;"  the  theatrical  journal  paid  me  one  hundred 
weekly;  and  the  "  Drapeau,"  up  to  the  time  of  its  suppres- 
sion, forty  francs  for  every  article,  irrespective  of  its  length. 
In  a  word,  each  day's  revenue  averaged  above  a  hundred 
and  fifty  francs,  which  it  was  my  custom  to  spend  to  the  last 
sou-piece. 

To  sustain  the  character  of  wealth  and  fortune,  I  not  only 
toiled  without  ceasing,  but  I  entered  on  a  career  of  extrava- 
gance almost  as  distasteful  to  me.  Margot  loved  display  of 
every  kind.  The  theatrical  passion  seemed  to  suggest  a 
desire  for  every  species  of  notoriety ;  and  to  please  her  I  set 
up  a  costly  equipage,  with  showy  liveries  and  magnificent 
horses.  The  dinners  I  gave  were  of  the  most  extravagant 
kind  ;  the  bouquets  I  presented  to  her  each  evening  at  the 
theatre  would  have  in  their  price  supported  a  family.  My 
earnings  could  never  have  compassed  such  outlay,  and  to 
meet  it  I  became  a  gambler,  —  a  practised,  a  professional 
gambler,  —  playing  with  all  the  calm-headed  skill  of  a  deep 
calculator.  Fortune  vacillated ;  but,  on  the  whole,  I  was  a 
large  winner.  The  fine  decreed  against  the  "  Drapeau  "  was 
fifteen  thousand  francs,  —  a  large  sum  for  me,  and  far  above 
what  any  effort  at  accumulation  could  possibly  compass.  So, 
indeed,  Sanson  told  me,  and  laughed  at  the  bare  thought  of 
my  attempting  it.  There  was,  however,  he  said,  a  possi- 
bility—  a  mere  possibility  —  of  a  way  to  meet  this,  and  he 
would  think  over  it.  I  gave  him  a  day  or  two,  and  at  the 
end  of  that  time  he  told  me  his  plan.  It  was  this.  There 
was  a  certain  minister  high  in  the  confidence  of  Bonaparte, 


470  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

-whose  counsels  had  not  been  always  followed,  nor  even  list- 
ened to  at  times.  These  counsels  had  been  founded  on  the 
assumption  that  certain  views  and  intentions  of  a  particular 
kind  were  maintained  by  the  royalists,  —  secretly  maintained, 
but  still  occasionally  shadowed  forth  in  such  a  way  as  to  be 
intelligible  to  all  in  the  secrets  of  the  party.  To  be  plain, 
the  suspected  plan  was  neither  more  nor  less  than  a  union  of 
the  royalist  with  the  republican  faction  to  overthrow  the 
Bonapartists.  This  idea  seemed  so  chimerical  to  Bonaparte 
that  to  broach  it  was  at  once  to  lose  character  with  him  for 
acuteness  or  political  foresight.  Not  so  to  him  of  whom 
Sanson  spoke,  and  whom  I  at  once  pronounced  to  be 
Fouche. 

"Then  you  are  mistaken,"  said  he;  "but  to  any  other 
guess  I  will  make  no  reply,  nor,  if  you  press  me  on  this  sub- 
ject, will  I  consent  to  continue  the  negotiation." 

I  yielded  to  his  terms ;  and  after  a  brief  interval  came  an 
order  for  me  to  hold  myself  in  readiness  on  a  particular  eve- 
ning, when  a  carriage  would  be  sent  to  fetch  me  to  the  house 
of  the  minister.  At  eight,  the  hour  indicated,  I  was  ready; 
and  scarcely  had  the  clock  struck  when  the  carriage  rolled 
into  the  courtyard. 

I  have  been  led,  as  it  were  by  accident,  into  the  mention 
of  this  little  incident,  which  had  no  bearing  nor  influence  on 
my  future  ;  but  now  that  I  have  touched  upon  it,  I  will  finish 
it  as  briefly  as  I  can. 

I  was  received  in  a  small  office-like  chamber  by  a  man 
somewhat  past  middle  life,  but  whose  appearance  gave  him 
the  look  of  even  age.  He  was  short,  broad-shouldered,  and 
slightly  stooped ;  the  figure  altogether  vulgar,  but  the  head 
massive  and  lofty,  and  the  face  the  strangest  mixture  of  dig- 
nity and  cunning — a  blending  of  the  high-bred  gentleman 
with  the  crafty  pettifogger  —  I  ever  beheld.  He  received 
me  courteously,  and  at  once  opened  the  business  for  which 
we  met.  After  some  compliments  on  the  vigor  of  my  arti- 
cles in  the  "  Presse,"  he  proceeded  to  ask  what  my  peculiar 
opportunities  might  be  for  knowing  the  secret  intentions  of 
the  two  great  parties  who  opposed  the  government. 

My  replies  were  guarded  and  reserved ;  seeing  which,  he 
at  once  said,  — 

"  This  information  is  to  be  recompensed." 


THE   COMING   SHADOW.  471 

I  bowed  coldly,  and  only  replied  that,  if  he  would  put  dis- 
tinct questions  to  me,  I  should  endeavor  to  answer  them. 

After  some  little  fencing  on  both  sides,  he  asked  me  for 
the  writer  of  the  leading  articles  in  the  "  Drapeau  " — his 
name  and  position  in  life. 

For  reasons  that  may  be  guessed,  I  declined  to  reveal 
these.  A  similar  question  as  to  the  "Gazette"  met  a 
similar  reply.  Undeterred  by  these  refusals,  he  asked  me 
my  opinion  of  these  writers'  abilities,  and  the  likelihood  of 
their  being  available  to  the  cause  of  the  Government,  under 
suitable  circumstances. 

I  spoke  half  slightingly  of  their  talents,  but  professed 
implicit  trust  in  their  integrity.  He  turned  the  conversation 
then  towards  politics,  and  discussed  with  me  the  questions 
on  which  I  had  been  writing  so  earnestly,  both  for  and 
against,  in  the  two  opposing  journals.  The  tone  of  virulent 
abuse  of  both  was  great ;  and  I  half  hinted  that  a  personal 
amende  was  perhaps  the  point  to  which  my  opponent 
and  as  well  myself  were  tending.  He  smiled  slightly,  but 
meaningly. 

"  That  opinion  is  not  yours,  then,  sir?"  asked  I. 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  he,  blandly.  "  Monsieur  Bertin 
of  the  '  Presse '  will  not  seek  satisfaction  from  Monsieur 
Bertin  of  the  '  Drapeau,'  still  less  of  Monsieur  Bertin  of 
the  '  Gazette,'  whom  he  holds  in  such  slight  esteem." 

"  How,  sir!  Do  you  mean  to  imply  that  I  am  the  writer 
in  all  these  journals  ? " 

"You  have  just  told  me  so,  sir,"  said  he,  still  smiling; 
"  and  I  respect  the  word  of  a  gentleman.  The  tone  of  iden- 
tity assumed  on  paper  is  exactly  that  you  have  yourself  put 
on  when  advocating  any  of  these  lines  of  policy.  I  sus- 
pected this  from  the  first;  now  I  know  it.  Ah,  Monsieur 
Bertin,  you  are  in  the  mere  nursery  of  craftiness,  —  not  but  I 
must  admit  you  are  a  very  promising  child  of  your  years." 

Far  from  presuming  on  his  discovery,  he  spoke  more 
kindly  and  more  confidentially  than  ever  to  me;  asked  my 
reasons  for  this  opinion  and  for  that,  and  seemed  to  think 
that  I  must  have  studied  1  lie  questions  I  wrote  on  deeply  and 
maturely.  There  was  nothing  like  disparagement  in  his  tone 
towards  me,  but,  on  the  contrary,  an  almost  flattering  appre 
ciation  of  my  ingenuity  as  a  writer. 


472  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

"Still,  Monsieur  Bertin,"  said  he,  with  affected  gravity, 
"  the  '  Drapeau '  went  too  far,  —  that  you  must  allow  ;  and, 
for  your  sake  as  for  ours,  it  is  better  it  should  be  suppressed. 
The  fine  shall  be  paid,  but  it  must  appear  to  have  come  from 
the  royalists.     Can  I  trust  you  for  this?" 

He  looked  at  me  calmly,  but  steadily  as  he  spoke ;  and 
certainly  I  felt  as  if  any  deceit,  should  I  desire  it,  were  per- 
fectly impossible  before  him.  He  did  not  wait  for  my  reply, 
but,  with  a  seriousness  that  savored  of  sincerity,  said,  — 

"  The  pi'ess  in  France  at  this  moment  is  the  expression  of 
this  man  or  that,  but  it  is  no  more.  We  live  in  a  period  of 
too  much  change  to  have  anything  like  a  public  opinion  ;  so 
that  what  is  written  to-day  is  forgotten  to-morrow.  Yet  with 
all  that,  the  people  must  be  taught  to  have  one  religion  of 
the  State  as  they  have  one  of  the  Church,  and  heresies  of 
either  kind  must  be  suppressed.  Now,  Monsieur  Bertin,  my 
advice  to  you  is,  be  of  the  good  fold,  —  not  alone  because  it 
is  good,  but  because  it  is  likely  to  be  permanent.  Continue 
to  write  for  the  '  Gazette.'  When  you  want  information, 
Sanson  will  procure  it  for  you ;  but  you  must  not  come  here 
again.  Temper  your  royalist  zeal  with  a  seeming  regard 
for  your  personal  safety.  Remember  that  a  gentleman  gives 
larger  recognizances  than  a  sans- culottes ;  and,  above  all, 
keep  in  mind  that  you  serve  us  better  in  those  columns  than 
in  our  own.  C'est  de  la  haute  politique,  de  faire  combattre 
ses  ennemis  pour  soi." 

He  repeated  this  sentiment  twice  over,  and  then  with  a 
courteous  gesture  dismissed  me.  I  was  now  in  the  secret  pay 
of  the  Government,  —  no  regular  allowance  made  me,  but 
permitted  to  draw  freely;  and  when  any  occasion  of  real 
information  offered,  to  pay  largely  for  it. 

Had  time  been  given  me  for  reflection,  I  believe  I  should 
have  abhorred  myself  for  the  life  I  now  led.  It  was  one 
course  of  daily  trick  and  deception.  In  society  I  was  a  spy ; 
in  secret,  a  traitor.  Trusted  by  all,  and  false  to  all,  I  hurried 
along  in  a  headlong  career  of  the  wildest  excitement.  To 
enable  me  to  write,  I  had  recourse  to  various  stimulants ; 
and  from  one  excess  to  another  I  became  a  confirmed  opium- 
eater.  I  had  by  habit  acquired  a  degree  of  nervous  irrita- 
bility that  almost  defied  sleep.  For  days  and  days  frequently 
I  took  no  other  rest  than  an  occasional  half-hour's  repose 


THE  COMING  SHADOW.  473 

when  overcome,  and  then  back  to  the  desk  again, — if  not 
refreshed,  at  least  rallied.  The  turmoil  and  confusion  of 
my  thoughts  at  any  chance  interval  of  quiet  was  terrific.  So 
long  as  I  was  in  action,  all  went  well;  when  my  brain  was 
overworked,  and  my  faculties  stretched  to  their  extreme  ten- 
sion, the  excitement  sustained  me,  and  I  could  develop 
whatever  there  was  in  me  of  intellectual  power.  The  effort 
over,  and  my  task  accomplished,  I  became  almost  bereft  of 
life ;  a  trance-like  lethargy  seized  me ;  my  voice  failed,  my 
sight  and  hearing  grew  dulled,  and  I  would  lie  thus,  some- 
times for  hours,  scarcely  breathing,  indifferent  to  everything. 

"When  I  rallied  from  these  seizures,  I  hurried  off  to 
Margot,  either  to  her  home  or  to  the  theatre.  To  see  her, 
to  speak  to  her,  even  to  hear  her,  was  enough  to  call  me 
back  once  more  to  life  and  the  love  of  life.  There  was 
that  in  her  own  career,  with  all  its  changes  and  vicissitudes, 
that  seemed  to  fashion  her  mind  into  moods  similar  to  my 
own.  On  one  day  she  would  be  to  me  like  a  sister,  — kind 
and  warmly  affectionate ;  on  another,  she  would  be  as  though 
I  were  her  accepted  lover,  and  show  me  all  the  tender  in- 
terest of  one  whose  fate  was  bound  up  with  my  own ;  and 
perhaps  the  very  next  meeting  she  would  receive  me  coldly 
and  distrustfully,  and  darkly  hint  that  my  secret  life  was 
known  to  her. 

These  were  to  me  moments  of  intense  agony.  To  see 
through  them  was  worse  than  any  death,  and  the  very 
dread  of  them  made  existence  a  perfect  torture.  Till  I 
had  seen  her  I  never  knew,  each  day,  in  what  mood  she 
might  feel  towards  me ;  and  if  I  revelled  in  the  heaven  of 
her  smiles,  felt  her  deep  glances  descending  into  my  very 
heart,  and  thrilled  with  ecstasy  at  each  word  she  uttered, 
suddenly  there  would  come  the  thought  that  this  was  but  a 
dream,  and  that  to-morrow  would  be  the  dreadful  awaking! 

Her  conduct  was  inexplicable,  for  it  changed  sometimes 
within  the  compass  of  a  few  hours,  and  from  warmest  con- 
fidence would  become  the  most  chilling  reserve.  She  would 
pour  out  her  whole  heart  before  me;  tell  me  how  barren 
were  all  the  triumphs  she  had  achieved;  how  remote  from 
happiness  was  this  eternal  struggle  for  fame;  how  her 
nature  yearned  for  one  true,  unchanging  devotion;  how 
this  mockery  of  passion  made  shipwreck  of  all   real  feel- 


474  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

ing,  and  left  the  nature  worn  out,  wearied,  and  exhausted. 
She  would,  perhaps  at  our  next  meeting,  efface  all  thought 
of  this  confidence  by  some  passionate  burst  of  enthusiasm 
for  the  stage,  and  some  bold  apostrophe  to  the  glory  of  a 
great  success,  —  scornfully  contrasting  such  a  moment  with 
the  whole  happiness  of  a  life  spent  in  obscurity.  I  own  that 
in  these  outbursts  of  her  wildest  imagination  her  beauty  of 
expression  attained  its  highest  excellence.  Her  dark  eyes 
flashed  with  the  fire  of  an  inspired  nature,  and  her  whole 
figure  seemed  imbued  with  a  more  than  mortal  loveliness ; 
while  in  her  softer  moods  there  was  a  sad  and  plaintive 
tenderness  about  her  that  subdued  the  spirit,  and  made  her 
seem  even  more  worthy  of  love  than  she  had  been  of  ad- 
miration. These  fitful  changes,  which  at  first  were  only 
displayed  in  private,  became  after  a  while  palpable  to  the 
public  eye.  On  one  night  she  would  thrill  an  audience  with 
horror,  and  in  the  power  of  her  delineations  make  the  very 
sternest  natures  yield  to  terror.  At  another,  she  would 
shock  the  public  by  some  indifference  to  the  exigencies  of 
the  scene,  walk  through  her  part  in  listless  apathy,  and 
receive  with  calm  unconcern  the  ill-disguised  disapproval 
of  the  spectators.  At  such  times  praise  or  blame  were 
alike  to  her;  she  seemed  like  one  laboring  under  some 
pressure  of  thought  too  engrossing  to  admit  of  any  atten- 
tion to  passing  objects ;  and  in  this  dreary  pre-occupation 
she  moved  like  one  spell-bound  and  entranced. 

To  allude  to  these  passing  states  of  mind  after  they  had 
occurred  was  sure  to  give  her  deep  offence ;  and  although 
for  a  while  I  dared  to  do  this,  yet  I  saw  reason  to  abandon 
the  attempt,  and  maintain  silence  like  the  rest.  The  press, 
with  less  delicacy,  expressed  severe  censure  on  what  they 
characterized  as  an  insulting  appreciation  of  the  public,  aud 
boldly  declared  that  the  voices  which  had  made  could  still 
unmake  a  reputation,  and  that  the  lesson  of  contempt  might 
soon  pass  from  behind  the  footlights  to  the  space  before 
them. 

It  was  both  my  province  to  keep  these  criticisms  from 
her  eye,  and  to  answer  them  in  print;  and  for  a  while  I 
succeeded.  I  wrote,  I  argued,  I  declaimed,  — now  casuisti- 
eally  expressing  praise  of  what  in  my  heart  I  condemned ; 
now    seeming  to  discover  a   hidden   meaning  where   none 


THE  COMING  SHADOW.  475 

existed.  I  even  condescended  to  appeal  to  the  indulgence  of 
the  public  in  favor  of  those  whose  efforts  were  not  always 
under  their  own  control,  and  whose  passing  frames  of  sor- 
row or  sickness  must  incapacitate  them  at  seasons  from 
embodying  then-  own  great  conceptions.  So  sensitive  had 
she  become  on  the  subject  of  remark  that  the  slightest 
allusion  to  her  health  was  now  resented  as  an  offence,  and 
even  Mademoiselle  Mars  dared  not  to  say  that  she  looked 
paler  or  thinner,  or  in  better  or  worse  spirits,  —  so  certain 
would  any  allusion  of  the  kind  be  to  displease  her. 

This  irritability  gradually  widened  and  extended  itself  to 
everything.  The  slightest  sign  of  inattention  of  the  audience 
—  any  movement  in  the  house  while  she  was  acting  —  a  want 
of  ability  in  those  en  scene  with  her  —  an  accidental  error  in 
even  their  costume  —  gave  umbrage;  and  she  would  stop  in 
her  part,  and  only  by  an  effort  seem  able  to  recover  her- 
self and  continue.  These  evidences  of  indifference  to  pub- 
lic opinion  —  for  so  were  they  construed  —  gradually  arrayed 
against  her  nearly  the  entire  force  of  the  press. 

They  who  had  been  her  most  devoted  admirers,  now  dis- 
played all  their  zeal  in  the  discovery  of  her  faults.  The 
very  excellences  they  had  once  extolled,  they  now  censured 
as  stage  trickery  and  deceit.  One  by  one,  they  despoiled 
her  of  every  qualification  for  art,  save  her  beauty ;  and  even 
that,  they  said,  already  proclaimed  its  perishable  nature. 
My  heart  sickens  as  I  think  over  the  refined  cruelty  of  these 
daily  attacks,  —  the  minute  and  careful  anatomy  of  humanity 
studied  to  inflict  misery!  To  stem  this  torrent  of  opinion, 
I  devoted  myself  alone.  Giving  up  all  other  writing,  I 
thought  only  of  Margot  and  her  cause.  I  assailed  her 
critics  with  the  foulest  abuse.  I  aspersed  their  motives,  and 
not  unfrequently  their  lives.  I  eagerly  sought  out  circum- 
stances of  their  private  habits  and  actions,  and  proclaimed 
them  to  the  world  as  the  men  who  dared  to  teach  the 
expressions  by  which  virtues  should  be  rendered,  and  of 
whose  very  existence  they  were  ignorant.  I  contrasted 
their  means  of  judgment  with  their  daily  lives.  I  exhibited 
them  as  mere  hirelings,  the  cowardly  bravos  of  a  degener- 
ate age;  and,  of  course,  —  for  Paris  was  always  the  same  in 
this  respect,  —  various  duels  were  fastened  on  me  for  my 
insolence. 


476  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

My  skill  at  the  sword  exercise  carried  me  safely  through 
many  of  these  encounters.  My  recklessness  of  life  may 
perhaps  have  served  to  preserve  it,  for  I  was  utterly  reck- 
less of  it!  My  neglect  of  politics,  and  all  interest  about 
them,  procured  my  dismissal  from  the  Government  journal. 
The  "Vendee"  soon  followed  the  example;  and  although 
the  violence  of  my  articles  in  the  "  Avant  Scene"  had  for  a 
time  amused  the  town,  the  editors  told  me  that  my  defence 
of  Mademoiselle  Margot  had  now  been  carried  far  enough, 
and  that  I  should  look  elsewhere  for  a  new  topic. 

Not  a  few  of  Margot' s  warmest  admirers  condemned  the 
ill-advised  zeal  of  my  advocacy.  Some  even  affirmed  that 
much  of  her  unpopularity  had  its  origin  in  my  indiscreet 
defence.  I  was  coldly  told  I  had  "  written  too  much." 
One  said  I  had  "fought  too  often."  The  fastidious  public 
—  which  acknowledged  no  sincerity,  nor  would  recognize 
such  a  thing  as  truth  —  condemned,  as  bad  taste,  the  ex- 
cesses into  which  my  heartfelt  indignation  had  hurried  me. 
Mademoiselle  Mars  was  a  half  convert  to  this  opinion ;  I 
shuddered  one  day  as  I  suspected  that  even  Margot  seemed 
to  entertain  it.  I  had  been  pressing  her  to  do  something  — 
a  mere  trifle — to  which  she  dissented.  I  grew  eager,  and 
at  last  insisted ;  when,  looking  at  me  steadily  for  some 
seconds,  she  said,  — 

"Has  it  never  occurred  to  you  that  over-zeal  is  apt  to 
defeat  itself,  from  the  very  suspicion  that  it  excites,  that 
there  may  be  a  deeper  motive  than  that  which  meets  the 
eye?" 

The  words  smote  me  to  the  heart.  They  were  the  death- 
knell  to  all  the  hope  that  had  sustained  me  through  my  long 
struggle ;  and  though  I  tried  to  read  them  in  various  ways 
less  wounding  to  my  feelings,  one  terrible  signification  sur- 
mounted all  the  others,  and  seemed  to  proclaim  itself  the 
true  meaning.  What  if  it  were  really  so?  was  the  dreadful 
question  that  now  struck  me.  What  if  I  had  been  the  cause 
of  her  downfall?  The  thought  so  stunned  me  that  I  sat 
powerless  under  the  spell  of  its  terror,  —  a  terror  which  has 
tempered  every  hour  of  life  from  that  day  to  this. 


CHAPTER   XLin. 

A   PASSAGE    IN   THE    DRAMA. 

Oxe  of  the  noted  characters  about  Paris  at  this  time  was  a 
certain  Captain  Fleury  ;  he  called  himself  "  Fleury  de  Mont- 
martre."  He  had  been,  it  was  said,  on  Bonaparte's  staff  in 
Egypt,  but  got  into  disgrace  by  having  taken  Kleber's  side, 
in  the  differences  between  the  two  generals.  Disgusted  with 
the  service,  in  which  he  saw  no  prospect  of  promotion,  he 
quitted  the  army  and  came  to  live  in  Paris,  as  some  thou- 
sands live  there,  no  one  can  tell  how  or  in  what  manner. 
His  chief,  if  not  only,  occupation  seemed  to  be  the  frequent- 
ing of  all  the  low  gambling-houses,  where,  however,  he  rarely 
was  seen  to  play,  but  rather  waited  for  the  good  fortune 
which  befell  some  other,  with  whom  he  either  dined,  or  suc- 
ceeded in  borrowing  a  few  francs.  Less  reputable  habits 
than  even  these  were  likewise  attributed  to  him  :  it  was  said 
that  he  often  thrust  quarrels  upon  people  at  the  tables,  which 
he  afterwards  compromised  for  money,  many  preferring  to 
pay  rather  than  risk  an  encounter  with  a  professed  duellist. 

In  his  threadbare  military  frock  and  shabby  hat,  with 
broken  boots  and  ragged  gloves,  he  still  maintained  the  sem- 
blance of  his  former  condition,  for  he  was  eminently  good- 
looking,  and,  in  gait  and  bearing,  every  inch  a  soldier.  I 
had  made  his  acquaintance  by  an  accident.  I  happened  to 
have  let  fall  beside  my  chair  a  bank-note  for  one  hundred 
francs,  one  night  at  play.  The  waiter  hurried  after  me  to 
restore  it,  just  as  I  was  descending  the  stairs  with  this  Cap- 
tain Fleury  at  my  side.  I  was  not  aware  of  my  loss,  and 
insisted  that  the  money  could  not  be  mine.  The  waiter  was 
equally  positive,  and  appealed  to  the  Captain  to  decide  the 
question.  Fleury,  instead  of  replying,  took  out  a  much- 
worn  pocket-book,  and  proceeded  to  examine  its  contents. 


178  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

"I'll  wager  as  much,"  cried  I,  "that  this  gentleman  is 
the  owner  of  the  note." 

"And  you  would  win,  sir,"  said  Fleury,  taking  it  from 
the  waiter's  reluctant  fingers,  and  carefully  enclosing  it 
within  his  case. 

The  waiter  never  uttered  u  syllable,  but,  with  a  look  that 
revealed  an  entire  history,  bowed  and  retired.  I  compli- 
mented the  Captain  on  the  good  fortune  of  his  presence 
in  such  a  critical  moment,  touched  my  hat  to  him,  and 
departed. 

It  was  only  the  next  morning  that  I  recollected  the  sum 
of  money  I  had  had  about  me,  and  perceived  that  the  note 
must  have  been  my  own.  It  was  of  course  too  late  to  think 
of  repairing  the  loss,  but  I  was  far  from  desiring  to  do  so. 
The  man's  appearance  had  interested  me;  I  was  deeply 
struck  by  the  signs  of  poverty  in  his  dress,  and  only  happy 
to  have  had  this  slight  occasion  to  serve  him,  without  any 
infringement  on  his  self-respect.  It  was,  indeed,  a  ques- 
tion I  often  debated  with  myself  whether  or  not  he  really 
believed  that  he  was  the  owner  of  the  note. 

From  that  day  forth  we  saluted  whenever  we  met ;  and  if 
by  any  chance  we  came  together,  we  exchanged  the  usual 
courtesies  of  acquaintance.  There  was  a  degree  of  pleasure 
afforded  him  by  even  this  much  of  recognition,  from  one 
whose  air  betokened  more  prosperous  circumstances,  that  I 
gladly  yielded.  I  had  known  even  harder  fortune  than  his, 
and  could  well  understand  the  importance  he  might  attach 
to  such  a  trifle. 

By  degrees  I  began  to  feel  a  strange  kind  of  interest  for 
this  man,  —  so  calm,  so  self-possessed  as  he  seemed  in  the 
midst  of  scenes  of  passionate  and  violent  excitement.  What 
signified  any  sudden  reverse  of  fortune,  thought  I,  in  com- 
parison with  the  daily  misery  of  such  a  lot  as  his?  And  yet 
clay  after  day  I  saw  him  unmoved  and  tranquil ;  he  came  and 
went  like  one  to  whom  all  the  vicissitudes  of  life  brought 
no  emotion.  He  was  a  study  for  me,  whether  I  met  him  at 
the  play-table  or  the  restaurant,  or  saw  him  at  night  in  the 
theatre  in  his  accustomed  spot,  close  to  the  orchestra,  where, 
with  folded  arms  and  bent  brows,  he  stood  the  entire  night 
without  moving.     I  watched  him  closely  during  that  terrible 


A  PASSAGE   IN  THE   DRAMA.  479 

week  when,  each  night  of  Margot's  appearance,  the  conflict 
of  public  opinion  grew  stronger  and  stronger,  when,  as  her 
enemies  gained  strength,  her  former  friends  either  gathered 
in  little  despairing  knots  together,  or  abandoned  the  field  in 
defeat.  I  thought,  or  rather  I  seemed  to  feel,  that  this  man's 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  me  oftentimes  when  I  was  not  looking 
at  him.  I  had  a  strange  sense  of  consciousness  that,  affect 
what  bearing  I  might,  he  was  reading  my  secret  thoughts  at 
his  leisure,  and  conning  over  traits  of  my  character.  When- 
ever any  momentary  burst  of  disapprobation  from  the  audi- 
ence had  made  me  fall  back  in  shame  and  anger  within  my 
box,  I  could  feel  that  his  eyes  were  following  me  with  a 
glance  of  persecuting  keenness. 

Margot's  enemies  were  triumphant ;  they  came  each  night 
in  crowds,  and  by  a  hundred  contrivances  of  insult  dis- 
played their  bitter  and  undying  hatred  of  her.  The  leader 
of  the  party  was  a  Vicomte  Dechaine,  whose  mistress  was 
the  rival  of  Margot,  —  if  even  third-rate  powers  could  aspire 
to  contend  with  genius  such  as  hers !  Her  friend,  it  was 
said,  had  organized  the  entire  conspiracy,  and,  being  a  rich 
man,  his  purse  and  his  influence  were  powerful  allies.  At 
his  supper-table,  the  writers  of  the  papers,  the  young  fash- 
ionables of  society,  and  the  professed  critics  who  swayed 
public  taste,  were  said  to  meet  and  concert  their  measures. 
Their  victory  cost  them  less  than  they  had  ever  anticipated. 
Margot's  own  indiscretions  —  I  have  no  other  word  for  them 
—  had  worked  faster  for  her  ruin  than  all  their  bitterest  ani- 
mosity. It  was  not  a  mere  indifference  to  public  opinion 
she  displayed,  —  it  was  a  downright  contempt  for  it.  If 
they  censured  any  peculiarity  of  expression,  — a  pause,  or  a 
gesture,  —  she  was  sure  not  only  to  repeat,  but  even  exag- 
gerate  it.  Did  any  detail  of  her  costume  excite  reproof, 
she  at  once  assumed  it  as  a  reason  for  maintaining  it.  In  a 
word,  it  seemed  that  all  the  arts  others  employ  to  win  praise 
and  secure  popularity  were  used  by  her  to  show  her  utter 
disdain  of  the  world's  opinion;  and  this,  too,  in  a  career 
where  such  opinion  is  the  law,  and  where  there  exists  no 
appeal  against  it. 

To  restrain  this  spirit,  even  to  moderate  it,  her  friends 
utterly  failed.     She  who  once  heard  even  the  humblest  with 


480  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

deference,  and  accepted  suggestions  with  a  degree  of  humil- 
ity, now  rejected  all  counsel  and  guidance,  and  boldly  pro- 
claimed herself  the  only  competent  judge  of  what  regarded 
her.  A  frequent  subject  of  censure  amongst  her  critics 
was  a  habit  she  had  fallen  into,  of  pressing  both  hands  to 
her  temples  in  moments  of  intense  passion.  The  gesture 
was  not  alone  ungraceful,  but  from  its  frequency  it  became, 
in  a  measure,  a  trick ;  and  this  they  assailed  with  a  degree 
of  virulence  far  out  of  proportion  to  the  offence.  Mademoi- 
selle Mars  counselled  her  to  guard  against  auy  mannerism, 
and  mentioned  this  one  in  illustration.  Margot  —  once  the 
very  emblem  of  obedience  to  her  gifted  friend  —  resented 
the  advice  with  angry  indignation,  and  flatly  declared  that 
her  own  inspirations  were  her  best  advisers. 

In  the  temper  she  had  now  assumed,  it  may  be  imagined 
how  difficult  had  all  intercourse  with  her  become.  Her  way- 
wardness increased  as  the  public  favor  declined ;  and  she 
who  once  might  have  been  permitted  to  indulge  any  caprice, 
was  now  rigidly  denied  even  the  commonest  liberty.  At 
first,  the  hardest  task  was  to  blind  her  to  the  censures  the 
press  was  heaping  upon  her.  Now,  however,  a  new  diffi- 
culty arose.  It  was  to  hint  that  she  no  longer  could  count 
upon  the  fickle  favor  of  the  multitude,  and  that  the  hour  of 
her  triumph  had  gone  by. 

At  moments,  it  is  true,  in  some  scenes  of  intense  passion, 
where  a  deep  emotion  of  the  soul  was  to  find  its  utterance  in 
a  few  broken  words,  a  cry,  or  perhaps  a  look,  her  wonder- 
ful genius  shone  forth  still ;  and,  surmounting  all  the  preju- 
dices of  sworn  enemies,  the  theatre  would  burst  forth  into 
one  of  those  thundering  peals  of  applause  that  sound  like 
the  very  artillery  of  human  feeling.  Such  a  passage  was 
there  in  "  Bajazet."  It  is  the  scene  where  Roxalane  listens 
to  the  warm  protestations  of  her  lover,  of  whose  perfidy  she 
is  assured,  and  whom  she  herself  overheard  declaring  that 
his  love  for  her  was  little  other  than  compassion.  For  a 
few  seconds  the  words  of  adoration  seemed  to  act  on  her 
like  a  spell.  She  drinks  them  eagerly  and  madly ;  her  eyes 
sparkle ;  her  bosom  heaves,  her  half-opened  lips  seem,  as  it 
were,  to  catch  the  accents ;  when  suddenly  the  truth  flashes 
across   her.     Her   color   flies;    her   face    becomes   livid   in 


A  PASSAGE   IN  THE   DRAMA.  481 

its  paleness.  A  terrible  shudder  shakes  her  frame.  She 
snatches  her  hand  from  his  grasp,  and  turns  him  a  look  of 
loathing,  contemptuous  aversion  such  as  actually  sickens 
the  very  heart  to  behold ! 

From,  I  know  not  what  caprice,  she  disliked  this  part 
now.  although  once  it  had  been  her  favorite  above  all  others. 
Her  friends  made  every  effort  to  induce  her  to  resume  it,  but 
in  vain.  Their  entreaties,  indeed,  only  served  to  excite  her 
opposition ;  and  the  subject  was  at  last  dropped  as  hope- 
less. The  Court,  however,  had  fixed  on  a  night  to  visit  the 
"Francais"  and  "Bajazet"  was  their  choice.  There  was 
now  no  alternative  left  her  but  to  accept  her  part  or  see  it 
filled  by  another.  The  latter  was  her  immediate  resolve ; 
and  Mademoiselle  Leonie,  her  rival,  was  at  length  installed 
in  all  the  honors  of  the  "  first  character."  It  was  evident 
now  to  all  Margot' s  friends  that  her  career  was  over.  An 
act  of  abdication  like  this  was  always  irrevocable ;  and  the 
Parisian  public  was  never  known  to  forgive  what  they  re- 
garded as  an  open  act  of  insult  to  their  authority  in  taste. 
Well  knowing  that  all  attempts  at  dissuasion  would  be  hope- 
less, we  made  no  appeal  against  her  determination,  but  in 
calm  submission  waited  for  the  course  of  events,  —  waited, 
in  fact,  to  witness  the  last  crash  of  ruin  to  that  fame  in 
whose  edifice  we  once  had  gloried. 

Mademoiselle  Mars  advised  Margot  to  travel.  Italy  had 
been  always  the  land  of  her  predilection.  She  had  even 
acted  there  with  immense  success  in  Alfieri's  tragedies,  for 
her  knowledge  of  the  language  equalled  that  of  her  own 
country.  It  would  be  a  good  opportunity  to  revisit  it; 
"And  perhaps,  who  knew,"  said  she,  "but  that  the  echo 
of  her  fame  coming  over  the  Alps  might  again  rouse  the 
enthusiasm  of  Paris  in  her  favor?"  I  warmly  supported 
this  plan,  and  Margot  consented  to  it.  A  dame  de  com- 
pagnie,  an  old  friend  of  Mademoiselle  de  Mars,  was  chosen 
to  be  her  travelling  companion,  and  I  was  to  be  of  the  party 
as  secretary. 

We  hurried  on  all  the  arrangements  as  rapidly  as  pos- 
sible. We  desired  that  she  should  leave  Paris  before 
the  night  of  the  command,  and  thus  remove  her  from  all  the 
enthusiasm  of  praise  the  press  had  prepared  to  shower  down 

31 


482  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

on  her  rival,  with  the  customary  expressions  of  contemp- 
tuous contrast  for  the  fallen  idol.  We  well  knew  the  ex- 
cess of  adulation  that  was  in  readiness  to  burst  forth, 
and  dreaded  less  the  effect  it  might  produce  on  Margot's 
mind  regarding  her  rival  than  that  it  should  inspire  her 
with  a  curiosity  to  witness  her  performance ;  for  such  was 
exactly  the  wayward  character  of  her  mode  of  thinking 
and  acting. 

To  our  joy,  we  discovered  that  Margot's  impatience 
equalled,  if  not  exceeded,  our  own.  She  entered  with  an 
almost  childish  delight  into  all  the  preparations  for  the 
journey.  We  hung  over  the  map  for  hours  together,  tra- 
cing our  route,  and  revelling  in  anticipated  pleasure  at  the 
thought  of  all  those  glorious  old  cities  of  the  peninsula. 
We  consulted  guide-books  and  journals,  and  pictured  to 
ourselves  all  the  delights  of  a  happy  journey.  With  what 
ecstasy  she  recalled  the  various  scenes  of  her  former  visit 
to  Italy,  and  the  names  of  those  whose  friendship  she  had 
acquired,  and  with  whom  she  longed  to  make  me  acquainted  ! 
In  her  enthusiasm  she  seemed  to  recover  her  long-lost  buoy- 
ancy of  heart,  and  to  be  of  the  same  gay  and  happy  nature 
I  had  known  her.  I  dare  not  trust  myself  with  more  of 
these  memories ;  they  come  upon  me  like  the  thought  of 
those  moments  when  on  a  sick  bed  some  dear  friend  has 
uttered  words  to  be  treasured  up  for  years  long, —  words  of 
promise,  mayhap  words  of  hope,  for  a  future  that  was  never 
to  come  ;  plans  for  a  time  that  dark  destiny  had  denied  us  ! 

Our  arrangements  were  all  completed,  our  passports 
procured,  a  courier  engaged,  and  everything  in  readiness 
for  the  road.  We  were  to  set  out  on  the  following  day.  It 
was  a  Friday,  and  Margot's  prejudices  would  not  permit  her 
to  begin  a  journey  on  such  an  inauspicious  day.  I  reasoned 
with  her  and  argued  earnestly,  for  I  remembered  it  was  on 
that  night  Mademoiselle  Leonie  was  to  appear  at  the  Fran- 
cais.  She  was  resolved,  however,  to  have  her  way,  and  I 
gave  in.  No  allusion  to  the  theatre,  nor  to  anything  con- 
cerning it,  had  ever  escaped  either  of  us.  By  as  it  were 
a  tacit  understanding,  each  avoided  the  theme  as  one  only 
suggestive  of  distressing  memories;  and  then  we  had  so 
many  topics  that  were  delightful  to  talk  over. 


A   PASSAGE   IN  THE   DRAMA.  483 

I  went  out  early  in  the  morning  to  make  some  purchases, 
some  trifling  things  we  wanted  for  the  road,  and  on  my 
return  I  found  Margot  with  flushed  face  and  feverish  look 
rapidly  walking  to  and  fro  in  the  drawing-room.  She  tried 
to  seem  calm  and  composed  as  I  entered,  she  even  made  jest 
of  her  own  agitation,  and  tried  to  laugh  it  off  as  a  weak- 
ness she  was  ashamed  of ;  but  her  efforts  were  sad  failures  : 
her  quivering  lip  and  trembling  accents  showed  that  deep 
agitation  was  at  work  within  her. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you,  I  will  not  tell  you,  what  is  the  matter 
with  me,"  said  she,  at  last;  "it  would  but  lead  to  some 
rash  outbreak  of  your  temper,  —  the  very  last  thing  I  could 
endure  at  such  a  time.  No,  no;  let  us  go;  let  us  leave 
Paris  at  once,  — to-day,  now,  if  you  wish  it;   I  am  ready." 

This  was  impossible ;  all  our  arrangements  had  been 
made,  and  horses  ordered  for  the  next  day.  My  curiosity 
now  became  an  agony,  and  I  grew  almost  angry  at  her  con- 
tinued refusal  to  satisfy  me ;  when  at  last,  after  exacting 
from  me  a  solemn  oath  to  do  nothing  nor  to  take  any  step 
without  her  concurrence,  she  placed  in  my  hands  a  letter, 
saying,  "This  came  while  you  were  out  " 

It  ran  to  this  effect :  — 

"  The  Vicomte  Dechaine  begs  to  offer  to  Mademoiselle  De  La 
Veronie  [Margot's  name  in  the  theatre]  his  box  at  the  Francais 
for  this  evening,  as  it  must  doubtless  be  interesting  to  her  to  wit- 
ness the  performance  of  Roxalane  by  one  who  labors  under  the 
double  difficulty  of  her  beauty  and  her  reason.  An  answer  will 
be  called  for." 

"You  cannot  expect  me  to  endure  this  outrage,  Margot!  " 
cried  I,  trembling  with  passion;  "you  could  not  suppose 
that  I  can  live  under  it?" 

"  I  have  your  oath,  sir,"  said  she,  solemnly,  and  with  a 
dignity  that  at  once  recalled  me  to  myself. 

"But  if  I  am  to  drag  out  life  dishonored  and  degraded 
even  to  my  own  heart,  Margot,"  said  I,  imploringly,  "you 
surely  would  take  pity  on  me!  " 

"  And  who  would  pity  me,  sir,  were  I  to  make  you  a 
murderer?  No,  no!"  cried  she,  "you  would  have  this 
secret,  —  you  insisted  on  it ;  show  yourself  worthy  of  this 


484  SIR   JASPER   CAREW. 

confidence,  by  keeping  your  solemn  pledge.  "We  leave  this 
to-morrow;  a  few  hours  is  not  too  much  sacrifice  for  one 
who  will  give  her  whole  life  to  you  after." 

As  she  spoke  she  fell  into  my  arms,  and  sobbed  as  though 
her  heart  was  breaking.  As  for  me,  my  transports  knew 
no  bounds.  I  dropped  at  her  feet ;  I  vowed  and  swore  a 
thousand  times  that  not  only  my  life,  but  that  my  fame, 
my  honor,  were  all  hers ;  that  to  deserve  her  there  was  no 
trial  I  would  not  dare.  Oh,  the  glorious  ecstasy  of  that 
moment  comes  back  like  a  flood  of  }'outh  once  more  upon 
this  old  and  shattered  heart;  and,  as  I  write  these  lines, 
the  hot  tears  are  falling  on  the  paper,  and  my  lips  are 
murmuring  a  name  I  have  not  strength  to  write. 

"  I  will  put  your  loyalty  to  the  test  at  once,"  said  she, 
gayly,  and  with  a  degree  of  wild  joyousness  the  very  oppo- 
site to  her  late  emotion.  "  Sit  down  there,  and  write  as  I 
dictate." 

I  obeyed,  and  she  began :  — 

"  '  Mademoiselle  De  La  Veronie  begs  to  acknowledge,  with 
a  gratitude  suitable  to  the  occasion,  the  polite  note  of  the 
Vicomte  Dechaine,  and  to  accept  —  '  " 

"  What !  "  cried  I,  dropping  the  pen. 

"Go  on,"  said  she,  calmly;  "write  as  I  tell  you:  'to 
accept  his  box  this  evening  at  the  Francais.' " 

"  Margot,  you  are  not  in  earnest!  "  said  I,  entreatingly. 

"I  am  resolved,  sir,"  said  she,  with  a  voice  of  determi- 
nation and  a  look  of  almost  reproving  sternness.  "  I  hope 
it  is  not  from  you,  at  least,  will  come  any  doubts  of  my 
courage !  " 

These  words  seemed  to  indicate  the  spirit  in  which  her 
resolution  had  been  taken,  and  to  show  that  she  preferred 
accepting,  as  it  were,  this  challenge,  to  the  humbler  alterna- 
tive of  an  escape  from  it. 

I  wrote  as  she  bade  me,  and  despatched  the  letter. 


CHAPTER   XLIV. 

THE    PRICE     OP    FAME. 

If  the  triumphs  of  genius  be  amongst  the  most  exalted 
pleasures  of  our  nature,  its  defeats  and  reverses  are  also 
the  very  saddest  of  all  afflictions.  He  who  has  learned  to 
live,  as  it  were,  on  the  sympathies  of  his  fellows  —  to  be 
inspired  by  them  at  times,  and  inspire  them  at  others  —  to 
feel  his  existence  like  a  compact  with  the  world,  wherein  he 
alternately  gives  and  receives,  cannot  endure  the  thought  of 
being  passed  over  and  forgotten.  The  loss  of  that  favor  in 
which,  as  in  a  sunshine,  he  basked,  is  a  bereavement  too 
great  to  be  borne.  He  may  struggle  for  a  while  against  this 
depression  —  he  may  arm  himself  with  pride  against  what 
his  heart  denounces  as  injustice  —  he  may  even  deceive  him- 
self  into  a  mock  indifference  of  such  judgments;  but,  do  all 
he  will,  he  comes  at  the  last  to  see  that  his  greatest  efforts 
were  prompted  by  the  very  enthusiasm  they  evoked,  — that 
the  impression  he  produced  upon  others  was  like  an  image 
in  a  mirror,  by  which  he  could  view  the  proportions  of  his 
mind,  and  that  the  flame  of  his  intellect  burned  purest  and 
brightest  when  fanned  by  the  breath  of  praise. 

It  will  be  seen  that  I  limit  these  observations  to  dramatic 
success ;  that  I  am  only  speaking  of  the  stage  and  the 
actor.  For  him  there  is  no  refuge  in  the  calmer  judgment 
of  posterity;  there  is  no  appeal  to  a  dispassionate  future. 
The  value  stamped  upon  him  now  is  to  be  his  fame  forever. 
No  other  measure  of  his  powers  can  be  taken  than  the  effect 
he  produced  upon  his  contemporaries ;  and  hence  the  great 
precariousness  of  a  career  wherein  each  passing  mood  of 
illness,  sorrow,  anxiety,  or  exhaustion  may  influence  the 
character  of  a  reputation  that  might  seem  established  beyond 
reversal. 


486  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

How  leniently,  then,  should  we  deal  with  those  who  labor 
for  our  pleasure  in  these  capacities  !  How  indulgent  should 
we  show  ourselves  even  to  their  caprices,  — justly  remember- 
ing the  arduous  nature  of  a  struggle  in  which  so  many 
requirements  are  summoned,  and  that  genius  itself  is  in- 
sufficient, if  there  be  not  the  vigor  of  health,  the  high 
promptings  of  ambition,  and  the  consciousness  of  power 
that  springs  from  unimpaired  faculties. 

I  have  come  to  think  over  these  things  with  a  sad  heart. 
Within  the  circle  of  such  memories  lies  enshrined  the  great- 
est sorrow  of  a  life  that  has  not  been  without  its  share  of 
trials.  I  had  intended  to  have  revealed  to  my  reader  a 
painful  incident,  but  I  find  that  age  has  not  yet  blunted  the 
acute  misery  of  my  feelings ;  nor  can  I,  with  all  the  weight 
of  long  years  upon  me,  endure  to  open  up  again  a  grief 
whose  impress  has  stamped  every  hour  of  existence.  Let 
me  not  be  supposed  as  uttering  these  words  in  any  spirit  of 
querulousness  with  fortune ;  I  have  had  much,  far  more  than 
most  men,  to  feel  grateful  for.  Well  do  I  know,  besides, 
that  to  my  successes  in  life  I  can  lay  no  claim  in  any  merits 
or  deservings  of  my  own ;  that  my  shortcomings  have  been 
numerous,  and  leniently  dealt  with.  I  speak,  therefore, 
not  complainingly.  I  would  not,  moreover,  like  to  spend  in 
repinings  the  last  hours  of  a  long  life  :  the  goal  cannot  well 
be  distant  now ;  and  as,  footsore  and  weary,  I  tread  the  few 
remaining  miles  of  my  earthly  pilgrimage,  I  would  rather 
cheer  my  heart  with  the  prospect  of  rest  before  me,  than 
darken  the  future  with  one  shadow  of  the  past. 

Margot  had  insisted  on  remaining.  She  felt  as  though  a 
challenge  had  been  offered  to  her,  and  it  would  be  cowardice 
to  decline  it.  Over  and  over  again  was  she  wont  to  repeat 
to  herself  the  contempt  she  felt  for  that  applause  in  which 
it  was  believed  she  exulted.  She  burned,  therefore,  for  a 
moment  wherein  she  could  display  this  haughty  contempt, 
and  throw  back  with  proud  disdain  their  homage,  by  show- 
ing herself  as  indifferent  to  rebuke  as  she  had  ever  been 
to  adulation.  The  day  was  passed  in  moods  of  silence, 
or  paroxysms  of  the  wildest  excitement.  After  an  hour  or 
more  perhaps  of  unbroken  calm,  she  would  burst  forth  into 
a   passionate   denunciation   of   the   world's   injustice,    with 


THE  PRICE  OF  FAME.  487 

bitter  and  poignant  regrets  for  the  hour  when  she  became  a 
suppliant  for  its  favors.  The  proudest  efforts  she  would 
make  to  rise  above  this  were  sure  to  be  defeated  by  some 
sudden  sense  of  defeat,  —  an  agonizing  conviction  that  threw 
her  into  violent  weeping ;  a  state  of  suffering  that  even  now 
I  dread  to  think  of. 

She  grew  calmer  towards  evening,  but  it  was  a  calm  that 
terrified  me :  there  was  a  slow  and  careful  precision  in  every 
word  she  spoke  that  denoted  effort;  her  smile,  too,  had  a 
fixity  in  it  that  remained  for  seconds  after  the  emotion 
which  occasioned  it ;  and  while  a  stern  and  impassive  quie- 
tude characterized  her  expression  generally,  her  eyes  at 
times  flashed  and  sparkled  like  the  glaring  orbs  of  a  lioness. 
She  descended  to  the  drawiug-room  most  magnificently  at- 
tired, a  splendid  diamond  tiara  on  her  head,  and  a  gorgeous 
bouquet  of  rubies  and  brilliants  on  the  corsage  of  her  dress. 
Although  pale  as  death,  —  for  she  wore  no  rouge,  —  I  had 
never  seen  her  look  so  beautiful.  There  is  a  Titian  picture 
of  Pompey's  daughter  receiving  the  tidings  of  Pharsalia,  and, 
while  too  proud  to  show  her  agony,  is  yet  in  the  very  struggle 
of  a  breaking  heart :  the  face  is  like  enough  to  have  been 
her  portrait,  and  even  to  the  color  of  the  massive,  waving 
hair,  is  wonderfully  identical. 

The  play  had  already  begun  when  we  arrived  at  the 
theatre,  and  in  the  little  bustle  caused  by  our  entry  into  the 
box,  a  half  impatient  expression  ran  through  the  audience ; 
but  as  suddenly  suppressed,  it  became  a  murmur  of  wonder- 
ing admiration.  The  stage  was  forgotten,  and  every  eye 
turned  at  once  towards  her  who  so  often  had  moved  their 
hearts  by  every  emotion,  and  who  now  seemed  even  more 
triumphant  in  the  calm  self-possession  of  her  beauty.  Rank 
over  rank  leaned  forward  in  the  boxes  to  gaze  at  her,  and 
the  entire  pit  turned  and  stood,  as  it  were,  spell-bound  at 
her  feet.  Had  she  wished  for  a  triumph  over  her  rival,  she 
could  not  have  imagined  a  more  signal  one;  for  none  now 
directed  their  attention  to  the  business  of  the  play,  but  all 
seemed  forgetful  of  everything  save  her  presence.  Margot 
appeared  to  accept  this  homage  with  the  haughty  conscious- 
ness of  its  being  her  due  ;  her  eyes  ranged  proudly  over  the 
flense  crowd,  and  slowly  turned  away,  as  though  she  had 
seen   nothing  there  to  awaken   one  sentiment  of   emotion. 


488  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

There  was  less  an  expression  of  disdain  than  of  utter  indif- 
ference in  her  look,  —  it  was  almost  like  the  cold  impassive- 
ness  of  a  statue. 

For  myself  I  am  unable  to  speak.  I  saw  nothing  of  the 
play  or  the  actors.  Margot,  and  Margot  alone,  filled  my 
eyes ;  and  I  sat  far  back  in  the  box.  My  glances  revelled 
on  her,  watching  with  unceasing  anxiety  that  pale  and  pas- 
sionless face.  In  the  fourth  act  comes  the  scene  where 
Roxalane,  aware  of  her  lover's  falsehood,  hears  him  profess 
the  vows  that  he  but  feigns  to  feel.  It  was  the  great  triumph 
of  Margot's  genius,  —  the  passage  of  power  in  which  she 
rose  unapproachably  above  all  others ;  and  now  in  the 
stilled  and  silent  assembly  might  be  noted  the  anxiety  with 
which  they  awaited  her  rival's  delineation.  Unlike  the  cold, 
unmoved,  and  almost  patient  bearing  which  Margot  displayed 
at  first,  as  though,  having  schooled  her  mind  to  a  lesson,  she 
would  practise  it,  had  not  aversion  or  contempt  overmastered 
her,  and  in  the  very  sickness  of  her  soul  revealed  her 
sorrow,  the  other  burst  forth  into  a  wild  and  passionate 
declamation,  —  an  outburst  of  vulgar  rage.  A  low  murmur 
of  discontent  ran  through  the  house,  and,  swelling  louder 
and  louder,  drowned  the  words  of  the  piece.  The  actress 
faltered  and  stopped ;  and,  as  if  by  some  resistless  impulse, 
turned  towards  the  box  where  Margot  sat,  still  and  motion- 
less. The  entire  audience  turned  likewise,  and  every  eye 
was  now  bent  on  her  whose  genius  had  become  so  interwoven 
with  the  scene  that  it  was  as  though  associated  with  her 
very  identity.  Slowly  rising  from  her  seat,  Margot  stood 
erect,  gazing  on  that  dense  mass  with  the  proud  look  of  one 
who  defied  them.  The  same  stern,  cold  stare  of  insult  she 
had  once  bestowed  on  the  stage  she  now  directed  on  the 
spectators.  It  was  a  moment  of  terrible  interest,  as  thus 
she  stood,  confronting,  almost  daring,  those  who  had  pre- 
sumed to  condemn  her;  and  then,  in  the  same  words 
Roxalane  uses,  she  addressed  them,  every  accent  tremulous 
with  passion,  and  every  syllable  vibrating  with  the  indignant 
hate  that  worked  within  her.  The  measured  distinctness  of 
every  word  rang  out  clear  and  full.  It  was  less  invective 
than  scornful,  and  scorn  that  seemed  to  sicken  her  as  she 
spoke  it. 

The  effect  upon  the  audience  will  best  evidence  the  power 


THE   PRICE   OF  FAME.  489 

of  the  moment.  On  all  sides  were  seen  groups  gathered 
around  one  who  had  swooned  away.  Many  were  carried  out 
insensible,  and  fearful  cries  of  hysteric  passion  betrayed  the 
secret  sympathies  her  words  had  smitten.  She  paused,  and, 
with  that  haughty  gesture  with  which  she  takes  eternal  fare- 
well of  her  lover,  she  seemed  to  say,  "Adieu  forever!" 
and  then  pushing  back  her  dark  ringlets,  and  tearing  away 
the  diamond  coronet  from  her  brows,  she  burst  into  a  fit  of 
laughter.  Oh !  how  terribly  its  very  cadence  sounded,  — 
sharp,  ringing,  and  wild  !  the  cry  of  an  escaped  intellect,  — 
the  shriek  of  an  intelligence  that  had  fled  forever ! 

Margot  was  mad.  The  violent  conflict  of  passion  to  which 
her  mind  was  exposed  had  made  shipwreck  of  a  glorious 
intellect,  and  the  very  exercise  of  emotion  had  exhausted  the 
wells  of  feeling.  I  cannot  go  on.  Already  have  these 
memories  sapped  the  last  foundations  of  my  broken  strength, 
and  my  old  eyes  are  dimmed  with  tears. 

The  remainder  of  her  life  was  passed  in  a  little  chateau 
near  Sevres,  where  Mademoiselle  Mars  had  made  arrange- 
ments for  her  reception.  She  lingered  for  three  years,  and 
died  out,  like  one  exhausted.  As  for  me,  I  worked  as  a 
laborer  in  the  garden  of  the  chateau  to  the  day  of  her  death  ; 
and  although  I  never  saw  her,  the  one  thought  that  I  was 
still  near  her  sustained  and  supported  me,  —  not,  indeed, 
with  hope,  for  I  had  long  ceased  to  hope. 

I  knew  the  window  of  the  room  she  sat  in  ;  and  when,  at 
evening,  I  left  the  garden,  I  knew  it  was  the  time  she  walked 
there.  These  were  the  two  thoughts  that  filled  up  all  my 
mind  ;  and  out  of  these  grew  the  day-dreams  in  which  my 
hours  were  passed.  Still  fresh  as  yesterday  within  my  heart 
are  the  sensations  with  which  I  marked  a  slight  change  in 
the  curtain  of  her  window,  or  bent  over  the  impress  of  her 
foot  upon  the  gravel.  How  passionately  have  I  kissed  the 
flowers  that  I  hoped  she  might  have  plucked  !  how  devotedly 
knelt  beside  the  stalks  from  which  she  had  broken  off  a 
blossom ! 

These  memories  live  still,  nor  would  I  wish  it  otherwise. 
In  the  tender  melancholy,  I  can  sit  and  ponder  over  the  past, 
mure  tranquilly,  may  be,  than  if  they  spoke  of  happiness. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

DARK   PASSAGES   OP    LIFE. 

For  some  years  after  the  death  of  Margot,  my  life  was  like  a 
restless  dream,  —  a  struggle,  as  it  were,  between  reality  and 
a  strange  scepticism  with  everything  and  every  one.  At 
moments  a  wish  would  seize  me  to  push  my  fortune  in  the 
world,  — to  become  rich  and  powerful;  and  then  as  suddenly 
would  I  fall  back  upon  my  poverty  as  the  condition  least 
open  to  great  reverses,  and  hug  myself  in  the  thought  that 
my  obscurity  was  a  shield  against  adverse  fortune.  I  tried 
to  school  my  mind  to  a  misanthropy  that  might  throw  me 
still  more  upon  myself ;  but  I  could  not.  Even  in  my  isolated, 
friendless  condition,  I  loved  to  contemplate  the  happiness  of 
others.  I  could  watch  children  for  hours  long  at  their  play ; 
and  if  the  sounds  of  laughter  or  pleasant  revelry  came  from 
a  house  as  I  passed  at  nightfall,  my  heart  beat  responsively 
to  every  note  of  joy,  and  in  my  spirit  I  was  in  the  midst 
of  them.  I  had  neither  home  nor  country,  and  my  heart 
yearned  for  both.  I  felt  the  void  like  a  desert,  bleak  and 
desolate,  within  me ;  and  it  was  in  vain  I  endeavored,  by  a 
hundred  artifices,  to  make  me  suffice  to  myself.  I  came,  at 
length,  to  think  that  it  were  better  to  attach  myself  to  the 
world  by  even  the  interests  of  a  crime  than  to  live  on  thus, 
separated  and  apart  from  all  sympathy.  In  humble  life,  he 
who  retreats  from  association  with  his  fellows  must  look  to 
be  severely  judged.  The  very  lightest  allegation  against 
him  will  be  a  charge  of  pride ;  and  even  this  is  no  slight 
offence  before  such  a  tribunal.  Vague  rumors  of  worse  will 
gain  currency,  and  far  weightier  derelictions  be  whispered 
about  him.  His  own  rejection  of  the  world  now  recoils  upon 
himself,  and  he  comes  to  discover  that  he  has  neglected  to 
cultivate   the  sympathies  which   are  not   alone    the  ties  of 


DARK  PASSAGES  OF  LIFE.  491 

brotherhood  between  men,  but  the  strong  appeals  to  mercy 
when  mercy  is  needed. 

By  much  reflection  on  these  things,  I  was  led  to  feel  at 
last  that  nothing  but  a  strong  effort  could  raise  me  from  the 
deep  depression  I  had  fallen  into  ;  that  I  should  force  myself 
to  some  pursuit  which  might  awaken  zeal  or  ambition  within 
me ;  and  that,  at  any  cost,  I  should  throw  off  the  hopeless, 
listless  lethargy  of  my  present  life.  AVhile  I  was  yet  hesitat- 
ing what  course  to  adopt,  my  attention  was  attracted  one 
morning  to  a  large  placard  affixed  to  the  walls  of  the  Hotel 
de  Ville,  and  which  set  forth  the  tidings  that  "  all  men  who 
had  not  served  as  soldiers,  and  were  between  the  ages  of  fif- 
teen and  thirty,  were  to  present  themselves  at  the  Prefecture 
at  a  certain  hour  of  a  certain  day."  The  consternation  this 
terrible  announcement  called  forth  may  easily  be  imagined  ; 
for  although  only  a  very  limited  number  of  these  would  be 
drafted,  yet  each  felt  that  the  evil  lot  might  be  his  own. 

I  really  read  the  announcement  with  a  sense  of  pleasure. 
It  seemed  to  me  as  though  fate  no  longer  ignored  my  very 
existence,  but  had  at  length  agreed  to  reckon  me  as  one 
amongst  the  wide  family  of  men.  Nor  was  it  that  the  life 
of  a  soldier  held  out  any  prize  to  my  ambition ;  I  had  never 
at  any  time  felt  such.  It  was  the  simple  fact  that  I  should 
be  recognized  by  others,  and  no  longer  accounted  a  mere 
waif  upon  the  shore  of  existence. 

The  conscription  is  a  stern  ordinance.  Whatever  its 
necessities,  there  is  something  painfully  afflicting  in  every 
detail  of  its  execution.  The  disruption  of  a  home,  and  the 
awful  terrors  of  a  dark  future,  are  sad  elements  to  spread 
themselves  over  the  peaceful  monotony  of  a  village  life. 
Nor  does  a  war  contain  anything  more  heart-rending  in  all  its 
cruel  history  than  the  tender  episodes  of  these  separations. 
I  have  the  scene  before  me  now  as  I  saw  it  on  that  morning, 
and  a  sadder  sight  I  never  have  looked  upon.  The  little 
village  was  crowded,  not  alone  by  those  summoned  by  the 
conscription,  but  by  all  their  friends  and  relations;  and  as 
each  new  batch  of  twelve  were  marched  forward  within  the 
gloomy  portals  of  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  a  burst  of  pent-up 
sorrow  would  break  forth,  that  told  fearfully  the  misery 
around.     But  sad  as  was  this,  it  was  nothing  to  the  scene 


492  SIR  JASPER  CAREW.. 

that  ensued  when  the  lot  had  fallen  upon  some  one  well 
known  and  respected  by  his  neighbors.  He  who  had  drawn 
the  lowest  number  was  enlisted,  and  instead  of  returning  to 
join  his  fellows  outside,  never  made  his  appearance  till  his 
hair  had  been  closely  cropped,  and  the  addition  of  a  tri- 
colored  ribbon  to  his  cap  proclaimed  him  a  soldier.  Of  these 
poor  fellows  some  seemed  stunned  and  stupefied,  looked 
vaguely  about  them,  and  appeared  incapable  to  recognize 
friends  or  acquaintances ;  some  endeavored  to  carry  all  off 
with  an  air  of  swaggering  recklessness,  but  in  the  midst  of 
their  assumed  indifference  natural  feeling  would  burst  forth, 
and  scenes  of  the  most  harrowing  misery  be  exhibited ;  and, 
lastly,  many  came  forth  so  drunk  that  they  knew  nothing 
either  of  what  happened  or  where  they  were ;  and  to  see 
these  surrounded  by  the  friends  who  now  were  to  take  their 
last  leave  of  them  was  indescribably  painful. 

Like  most  of  those  who  care  little  for  fortune,  I  was  suc- 
cessful ;  that  is,  I  drew  one  of  the  highest  numbers,  and  was 
pronounced  "  exempt  from  service."  There  was  not  one, 
however,  to  whom  the  tidings  could  bring  joy,  nor  was  there 
one  to  whom  I  could  tell  the  news  with  the  hope  of  hearing  a 
word  of  welcome  in  return.  I  was  turning  away  from  the 
spot,  not  sorry  to  leave  a  place  so  full  of  misery,  when  I 
came  upon  a  group  around  a  young  man  who  had  fainted 
and  been  carried  out  for  fresh  air.  He  had  been  that 
moment  enlisted,  and  the  shock  had  proved  over-much  for 
him.  Poor  fellow  !  well  might  it  —  the  same  week  saw  him 
the  happy  father  of  his  firstborn,  and  the  sworn  soldier  of 
the  Empire.     What  a  wide  gulf  separates  such  fortunes ! 

I  pushed  my  way  into  the  midst,  and  offered  myself  to 
take  his  place.  At  first  none  so  much  as  listened  to  me ; 
they  deemed  my  proposal  absurd,  perhaps  impossible.  An 
old  sergeant  who  was  present,  however,  thought  differently, 
and,  measuring  me  calmly  with  his  eye,  left  the  spot.  He 
returned  soon,  and  beckoned  me  to  follow.  I  did  so.  A 
few  brief  questions  were  put  to  me.  I  answered  them,  was 
desired  to  pass  on  to  an  inner  room,  where,  in  a  file  of  some 
twenty  strong,  the  chosen  recruits  were  standing  before  a 
desk.  A  man  rapidly  repeated  certain  words,  to  which  we 
were  ordered  to  respond  by  lifting  the  right  hand  to  the  face. 


DARK  PASSAGES  OF  LITE.  493 

This  was  an  oath  of  allegiance,  and  when  taken  we  moved 
on  to  the  barber,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  ceremony  was 
completed,  and  we  were  soldiers  of  France. 

I  had  imagined,  and  indeed  I  had  convinced  myself,  that 
I  was  so  schooled  in  adversity  I  could  defy  fortune.  I 
thought  that  mere  bodily  privations  and  sufferings  could 
never  seriously  affect  me,  and  that,  with  the  freedom  of  my 
own  thoughts  unfettered,  no  real  slavery  could  oppress  me. 
In  this  calculation  I  had  forgotten  to  take  count  of  those 
feelings  of  self-esteem  which  are  our  defences  against  the 
promptings  of  every  mean  ambition.  I  had  not  remenv 
bered  that  these  may  be  outraged  by  the  very  same  rules  of 
discipline  that  taught  us  to  fire  and  load,  and  march  and 
manoeuvre!     It  was  a  grievous  error! 

France  was  once  more  at  war  with  all  the  world  :  her 
armies  were  now  moving  eastward  to  attack  Austria,  and 
more  than  mere  menaces  declared  the  intention  to  invade 
England.  Fresh  troops  were  called  for  with  such  urgency 
that  a  fortnight  or  three  weeks  was  only  allowed  to  drill  the 
new  recruits  and  fit  them  for  regimental  duty.  Severity 
compensated  for  the  briefness  of  the  time,  and  the  men  were 
exercised  with  scarcely  an  interval  of  repose.  In  periods  of 
great  emergency  many  things  are  done  which  in  days  of 
calmer  influences  would  not  be  thought  of ;  and  now  the  offi- 
cers in  command  of  depots  exercised  a  degree  of  cruelty 
towards  the  soldiers  which  is  the  very  rarest  of  all  practices 
in  the  French  army ;  in  consequence,  desertions  became  fre- 
quent, and,  worse  again,  men  maimed  and  mutilated  them- 
selves in  the  most  shocking  manner  to  escape  from  a  tyranny 
more  insupportable  than  any  disease.  It  is  known  to  all 
that  such  practices  assume  the  characteristics  of  an  epidemic, 
and  when  once  they  have  attained  to  a  certain  frequency, 
men's  minds  become  familiarized  to  the  occurrence,  and  they 
are  regarded  as  the  most  ordinary  of  events.  The  regiment 
to  which  I  was  attached  —  the  47th  of  the  line  — was  one  of 
the  very  worst  for  such  acts  of  indiscipline  ;  and  although 
the  commanding  officers  had  been  twice  changed,  and  one 
entire  battalion  broken  up  and  reformed,  the  evil  repute  still 
adhered  to  the  corps.  It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  com- 
mon soldiers  are  indifferent  to  the  reputation  of  their  regi 


494  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

inent;  even  the  least  subordinate,  those  in  whom  military 
ardor  is  lowest,  feel  acutely,  too,  the  stigma  of  a  condemned 
corps.  We  had  reason  to  experience  this,  on  even  stronger 
grounds.  We  were  despatched  to  Brest  to  garrison  the 
prison,  and  hold  in  check  that  terrible  race  who  are  sen- 
tenced to  the  galleys  for  life.  This  mark  of  disgrace  was 
inflicted  on  us  as  the  heaviest  stain  upon  a  regiment  openly 
pronounced  unworthy  to  meet  the  enemies  of  France  in  the 
field. 

This  act  seemed  to  consummate  the  utter  degradation  of 
our  corps,  from  which,  weekly,  some  one  or  other  was  either 
sentenced  to  be  shot,  or  condemned  to  the  even  worse  fate 
of  a  galley-slave.  I  shrink  from  the  task  of  recalling  a 
period  so  full  of  horror.  It  was  one  long  dream  of  ruffian 
insubordination  and  cruel  punishment.  Time,  so  far  from 
correcting,  seemed  to  confirm  the  vices  of  this  fated  regi- 
ment ;  and  at  length  a  commission  arrived  from  the  ministry 
of  war  to  examine  into  the  causes  of  this  corruption.  This 
inquiry  lasted  some  weeks ;  and  amongst  those  whose  evi- 
dence was  taken,  I  was  one.  It  chanced  that  no  punishment 
had  ever  been  inflicted  on  me  in  the  corps ;  nor  was  there  a 
single  mark  in  the  "conduct  roll"  against  my  name.  Of 
course,  these  were  favorable  circumstances,  and  entitled  any 
testimony  that  I  gave  to  a  greater  degree  of  consideration. 
The  answers  I  returned,  and  the  views  I  had  taken,  were 
deemed  of  consequence  enough  to  require  further  thought.  I 
was  ordered  to  be  sent  to  Paris  to  be  examined  by  General 
Caulincourt,  at  that  time  the  head  of  the  etat  major. 

It  would  little  interest  the  reader  to  enter  further  into  this 
question,  to  which  I  have  only  made  allusion  from  its  refer- 
ence to  my  own  fortunes.  The  opinions  I  gave,  and  the 
suggestions  I  made,  attracted  the  notice  of  my  superiors, 
and  I  received,  as  a  reward,  the  grade  of  corporal,  and  was 
attached  to  the  Chancellerie  Militaire  at  Strasburg,  —  a  post 
I  continued  to  occupy  for  upwards  of  two  years.  Two 
peaceful,  uneventful  years  were  they,  and  to  look  back 
upon,  they  seem  but  as  a  day. 

The  unbroken  monotony  of  my  life,  the  almost  apathetic 
calm  which  had  come  over  me,  and  my  isolation  from  all 
other  men,   gave  me  the  semblance  of   a   despondent  and 


DARK   PASSAGES  OF  LEFE.  495 

melancholy  nature ;  but  I  was  far  from  unhappy,  and  had 
schooled  myself  to  take  pleasure  in  a  variety  of  simple, 
uncostly  pursuits  which  filled  up  my  leisure  hours ;  and 
thus  my  little  flower-garden,  stolen  from  an  angle  of  the 
glacis,  was  to  me  a  domain  of  matchless  beauty.  Every 
spare  moment  of  my  time  was  passed  here,  and  every  little 
saving  of  my  humble  pay  was  expended  on  this  spot.  The 
rose,  the  clematis,  and  the  jessamine  here  twined  their  twigs 
together  to  make  an  arbor,  in  which  I  used  to  sit  at  evening, 
gazing  out  upon  the  spreading  Rhine,  or  watching  the  sun- 
set on  the  Vosges  mountains.  I  had  trained  myself  not  to 
think  of  the  great  events  of  the  world,  momentous  and  im- 
portant as  they  then  were,  and  great  with  the  destiny  of 
mankind.  I  never  saw  a  newspaper, —  I  held  no  intercourse 
with  others ;  to  me  life  had  resolved  itself  into  the  very 
simplest  of  all  episodes,  —  it  was  mere  existence,  and  no 
more. 

This  dream  might  possibly  have  ended  without  a  waking 
shock,  and  the  long  night  of  the  grave  have  succeeded  to  the 
dim  twilight  of  oblivion,  had  not  an  event  occurred  to  rouse 
me  from  my  stupor,  and  bring  me  back  to  life  and  its 
troubles. 

An  order  had  arrived  from  Paris  to  put  the  fortress  into  a 
state  of  perfect  defence.  New  redoubts  and  bastions  were 
to  be  erected,  the  ditches  widened,  and  an  additional  force 
of  guns  to  be  mounted  on  the  walls.  The  telegraph  had 
brought  the  news  in  the  morning,  and  ere  the  sunset  that 
same  evening  my  little  garden  was  a  desert;  all  my  care 
and  toil  scattered  to  the  winds ;  the  painful  work  of  long 
months  in  ruin,  and  my  one  sole  object  in  life  obliterated 
and  gone.  I  had  thought  that  all  emotions  were  long  since 
dead  within  me.  I  fervently  believed  that  every  well  of 
feeling  was  dry  and  exhausted  in  my  nature;  but  I  cried 
and  cried  bitterly  as  I  beheld  this  desolation.  There  seemed 
to  my  eyes  a  wantonness  in  the  cruelty  thus  inflicted,  and 
in  my  heart  I  inveighed  against  the  ruthless  passions  of 
men,  and  the  depravity  by  which  their  actions  are  directed. 
Was  tin'  world  too  much  a  paradise  for  me,  I  asked,  that 
tl.is  small  spot  of  earth  could  not  be  spared  to  me?  Was 
I  over-covetous  in  craving  this  one  corner  of  the  vast  uni- 


496  SIR   JASPER  CAREW. 

verse?  In  my  folly  and  rny  selfishness  I  fancied  myself  the 
especial  mark  of  adversity,  and  henceforth  I  vowed  a  reck- 
less front  to  fortune. 

He  who  lives  for  himself  alone,  has  not  only  to  pay  the 
penalty  of  unguided  counsels,  but  the  far  heavier  one  of 
following  impulses  of  which  egotism  is  the  mainspring.  The 
care  for  others,  the  responsibilities  of  watching  over  and 
protecting  something  besides  ourselves,  are  the  very  best  of 
all  safeguards  against  our  own  hearts.  I  have  a  right  to 
say  this. 

From  a  life  of  quiet  and  orderly  regularity,  I  now  launched 
out  into  utter  recklessness  and  abandonment.  I  formed 
acquaintances  with  the  least  reputable  of  my  comrades, 
frequented  their  haunts,  and  imitated  then*  habits.  I  caught 
vice  as  men  catch  a  malady.  It  was  a  period  little  short  of 
insanity,  since  every  wish  was  perverted,  and  every  taste 
the  opposite  of  my  real  nature.  I,  who  was  once  the  type 
of  punctuality  and  exactness,  came  late  and  irregularly  to 
my  duties.  My  habits  of  sobriety  were  changed  for  waste, 
and  even  my  appearance,  my  very  temper,  altered ;  I  be- 
came dissolute-looking  and  abandoned,  passionate  in  my 
humors,  and  quick  to  take  offence. 

The  downward  course  is  ever  a  rapid  one,  and  vices  are 
eminently  suggestive  of  each  other.  It  took  a  few  weeks  to 
make  me  a  spendthrift  and  a  debauchee ;  a  few  more,  and 
I  became  a  duellist  and  a  brawler.  I  ceased  to  hold  inter- 
course with  all  who  had  once  held  me  in  esteem,  and  formed 
friends  among  the  dissolute  and  the  depraved.  Amidst 
men  of  this  stamp  the  sentence  of  a  Provost-Marshal,  or  the 
durance  of  the  Salle  de  Police,  are  reckoned  distinctions; 
and  he  who  has  oftenest  insulted  his  superiors  and  outraged 
discipline  is  deemed  the  most  worthy  of  respect.  I  had  won 
no  laurels  of  this  kind,  and  resolved  not  to  be  behind  my 
comrades  in  such  claims.  My  only  thought  was  how  to  ob- 
tain some  peculiar  notoriety  by  my  resistance  to  authority. 

I  had  now  the  rank  of  sergeant,  —  a  grade  which  per- 
mitted me  to  frequent  the  cafe  resorted  to  by  the  officers ; 
but  as  this  was  a  privilege  no  sous-officer  availed  himself  of, 
I  of  course  did  not  presume  to  take.  It  now,  however, 
occurred  to  me  that  this  was  precisely  the  kind  of  infraction 


DARK  PASSAGES   OF  LIFE.  497 

the  consequences  of  which  might  entail  the  gravest  events, 
and  yet  be,  all  the  while,  within  the  limits  of  regimental 
discipline.  "With  this  idea  in  my  head  I  swaggered,  one 
evening,  into  the  "  Lion  Ganne,"  at  that  time  the  favorite 
military  cafe  of  Strasburg.  The  look  of  astonishment  at 
my  entrance  was  very  soon  converted  into  a  most  unmis- 
takable expression  of  angry  indignation ;  and  when,  calling 
for  the  waiter,  I  seated  myself  at  a  table,  my  intrusion  was 
discussed  in  terms  quite  loud  enough  for  me  to  hear. 

It  was  well  known  that  the  Emperor  distinguished  the 
class  I  belonged  to,  by  the  most  signal  marks  of  favor  : 
the  sergeant  and  the  corporal  might  have  dared  to  address 
him  when  the  field-marshal  could  not  have  uttered  a  word. 
It  was  part  of  his  military  policy  to  unbend  to  those  whose 
position  excluded  them  from  even  the  very  shadow  of  a 
rivalry,  and  be  coldly  distant  to  all  whose  station  approached 
an  equality.  This  consideration  restrained  the  feelings  of 
those  who  now  beheld  me,  and  who  well  knew,  in  any  alter- 
cation, into  which  scale  would  be  thrown  the  weight  of  the 
imperial  influence. 

To  desert  the  side  of  the  room  where  I  sat,  and  leave 
me  in  a  marked  isolation,  was  their  first  move ;  but  seeing 
that  I  rather  assumed  this  as  a  token  of  victory,  they  re- 
sorted to  another  tactic,  —  they  occupied  all  the  tables,  save 
one  at  the  very  door,  and  thus  virtually  placed  me  in  a 
position  of  obloquy  and  humiliation.  For  a  night  or  two 
I  held  my  ground  without  flinching  ;  but  I  felt  that  I  could 
not  continue  a  merely  defensive  warfare,  and  determined, 
at  any  hazard,  to  finish  the  struggle.  Instead,  therefore, 
of  resuming  the  humble  place  they  had  assigned  me,  I 
carried  my  coffee  with  me,  and  set  the  cup  on  a  table  at 
which  a  lieutenant-colonel  was  seated,  reading  his  newspa- 
per by  the  fire.  He  started  up  as  he  saw  me,  and  called  out, 
"  What  means  this  insolence?     Is  this  a  place  for  you?  " 

"  The  general  instructions  of  the  army  declare  that  a 
sous-ollicci-  has  the  entree  to  all  public  cafes  and  restaurants 
frequented  by  regimental  officers,  although  not  to  such  as 
air  maintained  by  them  as  clubs  and  messrooms.  I  am, 
therefore,  only  within  the  limits  of  a  right,  Monsieur  Colo- 
nel," said  I,  offering  a  military  salute  as  I  spoke. 

32 


498  SIR  JASPER  CAEEW. 

"  Leave  the  room,  sir,  and  report  yourself  to  your 
captain,"  said  he,  boiling  over  with  rage. 

I  arose,  and  prepared  to  obey  his  command. 

"If  that  fellow  be  not  reduced  to  the  ranks  on  to-morrow's 
parade,  I  '11  leave  the  service,"  said  he  to  an  officer  at  his 
side. 

"  If  I  have  your  permission  to  throw  him  out  of  the  win- 
dow, Monsieur  Colonel,  I  '11  promise  to  quit  the  army  if  I 
don't  do  it,"  said  a  young  lieutenant  of  cuirassiers.  He 
was  seated  at  a  table  near  me,  and  with  his  legs  in  such  a 
position  as  to  fill  up  the  space  I  had  to  pass  out  by. 

"Without  any  apology  for  stepping  across  him,  I  moved 
forward,  and  slightly  —  I  will  not  say  unintentionally  — 
struck  his  foot  with  my  own.  He  sprang  up  with  a  loud 
oath,  and  knocked  my  shako  off  my  head.  I  turned  quickly 
and  struck  him  to  the  ground  with  my  clenched  hand.  A 
dozen  swords  were  drawn  in  an  instant.  Had  it  not  been 
for  the  most  intrepid  interference,  I  should  have  been  cut 
to  pieces  on  the  spot.  As  it  was,  I  received  five  or  six 
severe  sabre  wounds,  and  one  entirely  laid  my  cheek  open 
from  the  eye  to  the  mouth. 

I  was  soon  covered  with  blood  from  head  to  foot ;  but  I 
stood  calmly,  until  faintness  came  on,  without  stirring ; 
then  I  staggered  back,  and  sat  down  upon  a  chair.  A  sur- 
geon bandaged  my  wrist,  which  had  been  cut  across,  and 
my  face  ;  and,  a  carriage  being  sent  for,  I  was  at  once  con- 
veyed to  hospital.  The  loss  of  blood  perhaps  saved  me 
from  fever.  At  all  events,  I  was  calm  and  self-possessed ; 
and,  strangest  of  all,  the  excitement  which  for  months  back 
had  taken  possession  of  me  was  gone,  and  I  was  once  again 
myself,  —  in  patience  and  quiet  submission  calmly  awaiting 
the  sentence  which  I  well  knew  must  be  my  death.  We 
frequently  hear  that  great  reverses  of  fortune  elicit  and  de- 
velop resources  of  character  which  under  what  are  called 
happier  circumstances  had  remained  dormant  and  unknown. 
I  am  strongly  disposed  to  attribute  much  of  this  result  to 
purely  physical  changes,  and  that  our  days  of  prosperity 
are  seasons  of  inordinate  excitement,  with  all  the  bodily 
ills  that  accompany  such  a  state.  If  it  be  so  hard  for  the 
rich  man  to  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  is  it  not  that  his 


DARK  PASSAGES  OF  LITE.  499 

whole  nature  has  been  depraved  and  perverted  by  the  con- 
summate selfishness  that  comes  of  power?  What  hardeners 
of  the  heart  are  days  of  pleasure  and  nights  of  excess ! 
And  how  look  for  the  sympathy  that  consoles  and  comforts, 
from  him  whose  greatest  sufferings  are  the  jarring  contra- 
rieties of  his  own  nature? 

I  have  said  I  was  again  myself,  but  with  this  addition,  that 
a  deep  and  sincere  sorrow  was  over  me  for  my  late  life,  and 
an  honest  repentance  for  the  past.  I  was  eleven  weeks  in 
hospital ;  two  severe  relapses  had  prolonged  my  malady ; 
and  it  was  nigh  three  months  after  the  occurrence  I  have 
detailed,  that  I  was  pronounced  fit  to  be  sent  forward  for 
trial  by  court-martial. 

There  were  a  considerable  number  awaiting  their  trial  at 
the  same  time.  Men  had  been  drafted  to  Strasburg  from 
various  places,  and  a  commission  sat  en  permanence,  to  dis- 
pose of  them.  There  was  little  formality,  and  even  less  time, 
wasted  in  these  proceedings.  The  prisoner  defended  him- 
self if  he  were  able ;  if  not,  the  reading  of  the  charge  and 
some  slight  additions  of  testimony  completed  the  investiga- 
tion ;  the  sentence  being,  for  form  sake,  reserved  for  a  later 
period.  Occasionally  it  would  happen  that  some  member  of 
the  court  would  interpose  a  few  favorable  words,  or  endeavor 
to  throw  a  pretext  over  the  alleged  crime ;  but  these  cases 
were  rare,  and  usually  nothing  was  heard  but  the  charge  of 
the  accuser. 

Having  determined  to  make  no  defence,  my  whole  effort 
was  to  accustom  my  mind  to  the  circumstances  of  my  fate, 
and  so  steel  my  heart  to  bear  up  manfully  to  the  last.  My 
offence  was  one  never  pardoned.  This  I  well  knew,  and  it 
only  remained  for  me  to  meet  the  penalty  like  a  brave  man. 
Few,  indeed,  could  quit  the  world  with  less  ties  to  break,  — 
few  could  leave  it  with  less  to  regret ;  and  yet,  such  is  the 
instinctive  love  of  life,  and  so  powerful  are  the  impulses  to 
struggle  against  fate,  that  as  the  time  of  my  trial  drew  nigh, 
I  would  have  dared  any  danger  with  the  hope  of  escape,  and 
accepted  any  commutation  of  a  sentence  short  of  death.  I 
believe  that  this  is  a  stage  of  agony  to  which  all  are  exposed, 
and  that  every  criminal  sentenced  to  the  scaffold  must  pass 
through  this  terrible  period.     In  my  case  it  was  prolonged, 


500  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

my  name  being  one  of  the  very  last  for  trial ;  and  already 
five  weeks  had  gone  over  before  I  was  called.  Even  then  a 
postponement  took  place,  for  the  Emperor  had  arrived  on 
his  way  to  Germany,  and  a  great  review  of  the  garrison 
superseded  all  other  duties. 

Never  had  all  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  war  seemed 
so  grand  and  so  splendid  to  my  eyes  as  when,  through  the 
o-rating  of  my  prison-cell,  I  strained  my  glances  after  the 
dense  columns  and  the  clanking  squadrons,  as  they  passed. 
The  gorgeous  group  of  staff-officers  and  the  heavy-rolling 
artillery  had  all  a  significance  and  a  meaning  that  they  had 
never  possessed  for  me  before.  They  seemed  to  shadow 
forth  great  events  for  the  future,  portentous  changes  in  time 
to  come,  gigantic  convulsions  in  the  condition  of  the  world, 
kingdoms  rocking,  and  thrones  overturned.  The  shock  of 
battle  was,  too,  present  to  my  eyes,  — the  din,  the  crash,  and 
the  uproar  of  conflict,  with  all  its  terrors  and  all  its  chivalry. 
What  a  glorious  thing  must  life  be  to  those  about  to  enter  on 
such  a  career !  How  high  must  beat  the  hearts  of  all  who 
joined  in  this  enthusiasm ! 

That  day  was  to  me  like  whole  years  of  existence,  filled 
with  passages  of  intensest  excitement  and  moments  of  the 
very  saddest  depression.  My  brain,  hitherto  calm  and  col- 
lected, struggled  in  vain  against  a  whole  torrent  of  thoughts 
without  coherence  or  relation,  and  at  length  my  faculties 
began  to  wander.  I  forgot  where  I  was,  and  the  fate  that 
impended  over  me.  I  spoke  of  all  that  had  happened  to  me 
long  before,  — of  my  infancy,  my  boyhood,  my  adventures  as 
a  man,  and  those  with  whom  I  lived  in  intimacy.  The  turn- 
key, an  invalided  sergeant  of  artillery  and  a  kind-hearted 
fellow,  tried  to  recall  me  to  myself,  by  soothing  and  affec- 
tionate words.  He  even  affected  an  interest  in  what  I  said, 
to  try  and  gain  some  clew  to  my  wanderings,  and  caught 
eagerly  at  anything  that  promised  a  hope  of  obtaining  an 
influence  over  me.  He  fetched  the  surgeon  of  the  jail  to  my 
cell  at  last,  and  he  pronounced  my  case  the  incipient  stage 
of  a  brain  fever.  I  heard  the  opinion  as  he  whispered  it, 
and  understood  its  import  thoroughly.  I  was  in  that  state 
where  reason  flashes  at  moments  across  the  mind,  but  all 
powers  of  collected  thought  are  lost.     Amongst  the  names 


DARK   PASSAGES   OF   LIFE.  501 

that  I  uttered  in  my  ravings  one  alone  attracted  their  atten- 
tion :  it  was  that  of  Ysaffich,  the  Pole,  of  whom  I  spoke 
frequently. 

"  Do  you  know  the  Colonel  Ysattich?"  said  the  doctor 
to  me. 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  slowly;   "  he  is  a  Russian  spy." 

"That  answer  scarcely  denotes  madness,"  whispered  the 
doctor  to  the  turnkey,  with  a  smile,  as  he  turned  away  from 
the  bed. 

"  Should  you  like  to  see  him?  "  said  he,  in  a  kind  tone. 

"  Of  all  things,"  replied  I,  eagerly;  "  tell  him  to  come  to 
me." 

I  conclude  that  this  question  was  asked  simply  to  amuse 
my  mind,  and  turn  it  from  other  painful  thoughts,  for  he 
shortly  after  retired,  without  further  allusion  to  it ;  but  from 
that  hour  my  mind  was  riveted  on  the  one  idea ;  and  to 
everybody  that  approached  my  sick  bed,  my  first  demand 
was,  "  Where  was  Count  Ysattich,  and  when  was  he  coming 
to  see  me  ?  " 

I  had  been  again  conveyed  back  to  the  military  hospital, 
in  which  I  was  lying  when  the  Emperor  came  to  make  his 
customary  visit.  The  prisoners'  ward  was,  however,  one 
exempted  from  the  honor  he  bestowed  on  the  rest ;  and  one 
could  only  hear  the  distant  sounds  of  the  procession  as  it 
passed  from  room  to  room. 

I  was  lying,  with  my  eyes  half  closed,  lethargic  and  dull, 
when  I  heard  a  voice  say,  — 

"  Yes,  Colonel,  he  has  spoken  of  you  constantly,  and 
asks  every  day  when  you  mean  to  come  and  see  him." 

"  He  never  served  in  the  Legion,  notwithstanding,"  re- 
plied another  voice,  "  nor  do  I  remember  ever  to  have  seen 
him  before." 

The  tones  of  the  speaker  recalled  me  suddenly  to  myself. 
I  looked  up,  and  beheld  Count  Ysaffich  before  me.  Though 
dressed  in  the  lancer  uniform  of  the  Garde,  his  features 
were  too  marked  to  be  forgotten,  and  I  accosted  him  at 
once. 

"  Have  you  forgotten  your  old  colleague,  Paul  Gervois?  " 
said  I,  trying  to  appear  calm  and  at  ease. 

"  What !  —  is  this  —  can  you  be  my  old  friend  Gervois?  " 


502  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

cried  he,  laying  a  hand  on  my  shoulder,  and  staring  hard  at 
my  face.  But  I  could  not  utter  a  word ;  shame  and  sorrow- 
overcame  me,  and  I  covered  my  face  with  both  my  hands. 

Ysaffich  was  not  permitted  to  speak  more  with  me  at  the 
time ;  but  he  returned  soon,  and  passed  hours  with  me  every 
day  to  the  end  of  my  illness.  He  was  intimate  with  the  offi- 
cer I  had  insulted ;  and,  by  immense  efforts,  and  the  kind 
assistance  of  the  medical  authorities,  succeeded  in  estab- 
lishing a  plea  of  temporary  insanity  for  my  offence,  by 
which  I  escaped  punishment,  and  was  dismissed  the  ser- 
vice. This  was  a  period  of  much  suffering  to  me,  mentally 
as  well  as  bodily.  I  felt  all  the  humiliation  at  which  my 
life  had  been  purchased,  and  more  than  once  did  the  price 
appear  far  too  great  a  one. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 


I  was  now  domesticated  with  Ysr.ffieh,  who  occupied  good 
quarters  in  Kehl,  where  the  Polish  Legion,  as  it  was  called, 
was  garrisoned.  He  treated  me  with  every  kindness,  and 
presented  me  to  his  comrades  as  an  old  and  valued  friend. 
I  was  not  sorry  to  find  myself  at  once  amongst  total  stran- 
gers, —  men  of  a  country  quite  new  to  me,  and  who  them- 
selves had  seen  reverses  and  misfortunes  enough  to  make 
them  lenient  in  their  judgments  of  narrow  fortune.  They 
were,  besides,  a  fine,  soldier-like  race  of  fellows,  —  good 
horsemen,  excellent  swordsmen,  reckless  as  all  men  who 
have  neither  home  nor  country,  and  ready  for  any  deed  of 
daring  or  danger.  There  was  a  jealousy  between  them  and 
the  French  officers  which  prevented  any  social  intercourse ; 
and  duels  were  by  no  means  a  rare  event  whenever  they  had 
occasion  to  meet.  The  Imperial  laws  were  tremendously 
severe  on  this  offence ;  and  he  who  killed  his  adversary  in  a 
duel  was  certain  of  death  by  the  law.  To  evade  the  conse- 
quences of  such  a  penalty,  the  most  extravagant  devices 
were  practised,  and  many  a  deadly  quarrel  was  decided  in 
a  pretended  fencing-match.  It  was  in  one  of  these  mock 
trials  of  skill  that  Colonel  le  Brun  was  killed,  an  officer 
of  great  merit,  and  younger  brother  of  the  general  of  that 
name. 

From  that  time  the  attention  of  the  military  authorities 
was  more  closely  drawn  to  this  practice ;  and  such  meetings 
were  for  the  future  always  attended  by  several  gendarmes, 
who  narrowly  scrutinized  every  detail  of  the  proceeding. 
With  such  perfect  good  faith,  however,  was  the  secret  main- 
tained on  both  sides  that  discovery  was  almost  impossible. 
Not  only  was  every  etiquette  of  familiar  intimacy  strictly 


504  SIR  JASPER   CAREVV. 

observed  on  these  occasions,  but  a  most  honorable  secrecy 
by  all  concerned. 

I  was  soon  to  be  a  witness  of  one  of  these  adventures. 
Ysaffich,  whose  duties  required  him  to  repair  frequently 
to  Strasburg,  had  been  grossly  and,  as  I  heard,  wantonly 
outraged  by  a  young  captain  of  the  Imperial  staff  who,  see- 
ing his  name  on  a  slip  of  paper  on  a  military  table  d'hote, 
added  with  his  pencil  the  words  Espion  Busse  after  it.  Of 
course  a  meeting  was  at  once  arranged,  and  it  was  planned 
that  Challendrouze,  the  captain,  and  four  of  his  brother 
officers  were  to  come  over  and  visit  the  fortifications  at 
Kehl,  breakfasting  with  us,  and  being  our  guests  for  the 
morning.  Two  only  of  Ysaffich' s  friends  were  intrusted 
with  the  project,  and  invited  to  meet  the  others. 

I  cannot  say  that  I  ever  felt  what  could  be  called  a  sin- 
cere friendship  for  Ysaffich.  He  was  one  of  those  men  who 
neither  inspire  such  attachments,  nor  need  them  in  return. 
It  was  not  that  he  was  cold  and  distant,  repelling  familiar- 
ity and  refusing  sympathy.  It  was  exactly  the  opposite. 
He  revealed  everything,  even  to  the  minutest  particle  of  his 
history,  and  told  you  of  himself  every  emotion  and  every  feel- 
ing that  moved  him.  He  was  frankness  and  candor  itself ; 
but  it  was  a  frankness  that  spoke  of  utter  indifference,  —  per- 
fect recklessness  as  to  your  judgment  on  him,  and  what  opin- 
ion you  should  form  of  his  character.  He  told  you  of  actions 
that  reflected  on  his  good  faith,  and  uttered  sentiments  that 
arraigned  his  sense  of  honor,  not  only  without  hesitation, 
but  with  an  air  of  assumed  superiority  to  all  the  prejudices 
that  sway  other  men  in  similar  cases.  Even  in  the  instance 
of  the  approaching  duel,  he  avowed  that  Challendrouze's 
offence  was  in  the  manner,  and  not  the  matter,  of  the  insult. 
His  whole  theory  of  life  was  that  every  one  was  false,  not 
only  to  others,  but  to  himself ;  that  no  man  really  felt  love, 
patriotism,  or  religion  in  his  heart,  but  that  he  assumed  one 
or  more  of  these  affections  as  a  cloak  to  whatever  vices  were 
most  easily  practised  under  such  a  disguise.  It  was  a  code 
to  stifle  every  generous  feeling  of  the  heart,  and  make  a 
man's  nature  barren  as  a  desert. 

He  never  fully  disclosed  these  sentiments  until  the  even- 
ing before  the  duel.     It  was  then,  in  the  midst  of  prepara- 


YSAFFICH.  505 

tious  for  the  morrow,  that  he  revealed  to  me  all  that  he  felt 
and  thought.  There  was,  throughout  these  confessions,  a 
tone  of  indifference  that  shocked  me  more,  perhaps,  than 
actual  levity ;  and  I  own  I  regarded  him  with  a  sense  of  ter- 
ror, aud  as  one  whose  very  contact  was  perilous. 

"I  have  married  since  I  saw  you  last,"  said  he  to  me, 
after  a  long  interval  of  silence.  "  My  wife  was  a  former 
acquaintance  of  yours.  You  must  go  and  see  her,  if  this 
event  turn  out  ill,  and  '  break  the  tidings,'  as  they  call  it,  — 
not  that  the  task  will  demand  any  extraordinary  display 
of  skill  at  your  hands,"  said  he,  laughing.  "Madame  the 
Countess  will  bear  her  loss  with  becoming  dignity ;  and  as 
I  have  nothing  to  bequeath,  the  disposition  of  my  prop- 
erty cannot  offend  her.  If,  however,"  added  he,  with  more 
energy  of  manner,  "  if,  however,  the  Captain  should  fall, 
we  must  take  measures  to  fly.  I  '11  not  risk  a  cour  militaire 
in  such  a  cause,  so  that  we  must  escape." 

All  his  arrangements  had  been  already  made  for  this  cas- 
ualty ;  and  I  found  that  relays  of  horses  had  been  provided 
to  within  a  short  distance  of  Mannheim,  where  we  were  to 
cross  the  Rhine,  and  trust  to  chances  to  guide  us  through 
the  Luxembourg  territory  down  to  Namur,  at  a  little  village 
in  the  neighborhood  of  which  town  his  wife  was  then  living. 
My  part  in  the  plan  was  to  repair  by  daybreak  to  Erlauch, 
a  small  village  on  the  Rhine,  three  leagues  from  Kehl,  and 
await  his  arrival,  or  such  tidings  as  might  recall  me  to  Kehl. 

"  If  I  be  not  with  you  by  seven  o'clock  at  the  latest,"  said 
he,  "  it  is  because  Challendrouze  has  vised  my  passports  for 
another  route." 

These  were  his  last  words  to  me  ere  I  started,  with,  it  is 
not  too  much  to  say,  a  far  heavier  heart  than  he  had  who 
uttered  them. 

It  was  drawing  towards  evening,  and  I  was  standing 
watching  the  lazy  drift  of  a  timber-raft  as  it  floated  down 
the  river,  when  I  heard  the  clattering  of  a  horse's  hoofs 
approaching  at  a  full  gallop.  I  turned,  and  saw  Ysaffich, 
who  was  coming  at  full  speed,  waving  his  handkerchief  by 
way  of  signal. 

J  hurried  back  to  the  inn  to  order  out  the  horses  at  once, 
and  ere  many  minutes  we  were  in  the  saddle,  side  by  side, 


506  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

not  a  word  having  passed  between  us  till,  as  we  passed  out 
into  the  open  country,  Ysaffich  said,  — 

"  We  must  ride  for  it,  Gervois." 

"  It's  all  over,  then?"  said  I. 

"  Yes,  all  over,"  said  he  while,  pressing  his  horse  to 
speed,  he  dashed  on  in  front  of  me ;  nor  was  I  sorry  that 
even  so  much  of  space  separated  us  at  that  moment. 

Through  that  long,  bright,  starry  night  we  rode  at  the  top 
speed  of  our  horses,  and,  as  day  was  breaking,  entered  Ro- 
stadt,  where  we  ate  a  hasty  breakfast,  and  again  set  out. 
Ysaffich  reported  himself  at  each  military  station  as  the 
bearer  of  despatches,  till,  on  the  second  morning,  we  arrived 
at  Hellsheim,  on  the  Bergstrasse,  where  we  left  our  horses, 
and  proceeded  on  foot  to  the  Rhine  by  a  little  pathway 
across  the  fields.  We  crossed  the  river,  and,  hiring  a  wa- 
gon, drove  on  to  Erz,  a  hamlet  on  the  Moselle,  at  which 
place  we  found  horses  again  ready  for  us.  I  was  terribly 
fatigued  by  this  time,  but  Ysaffich  seemed  fresh  as  when  we 
started.  Seeing,  however,  my  exhaustion,  he  proposed  to 
halt  for  a  couple  of  hours,  —  a  favor  I  gladly  accepted.  The 
interval  over,  we  remounted,  and  so  on  to  Namur,  where  we 
arrived  on  the  sixth  day,  having  scarcely  interchanged  as 
many  words  with  each  other  from  the  moment  of  our  set- 
ting out. 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 

TOWARDS    HOME. 

Ysaffich's  retreat  was  a  small  cottage  about  two  miles 
from  Dinant,  and  on  the  verge  of  the  Ardennes  forest. 
He  had  purchased  it  from  a  retired  "  Garde  Chasse  "  some 
years  before,  "seeing,"  as  he  said,  "it  was  exactly  the 
kind  of  place  a  man  may  lie  concealed  in,  whenever  the 
time  comes,  as  it  invariably  does  come,  that  one  wants  to 
escape  from  recognition." 

I  have  already  said  that  he  was  not  very  communicative 
as  we  went  along ;  but  as  we  drew  nigh  to  Dinant  he  told 
me  in  a  few  words  the  chief  events  of  his  career  since  we 
had  parted. 

"  I  have  made  innumerable  mistakes  in  life,  Gervois,  but 
my  last  was  the  worst  of  all.  I  married  !  Yes,  I  persuaded 
your  old  acquaintance  Madame  von  Geysiger  to  accept  me 
at  last.  She  yielded,  placed  her  millions  and  tens  of  millions 
at  my  disposal,  and  three  months  after  we  were  beggared. 
Davoust  found,  or  said  he  found,  that  I  was  a  Russian  spy ; 
swore  that  I  was  carrying  on  a  secret  correspondence  with 
Sweden;  confiscated  every  sou  we  had  in  the  world,  and 
threw  me  into  jail  at  Lubeck,  from  which  I  managed  to 
escape,  and  made  my  way  to  Paris.  There  I  preferred  my 
claim  against  the  marshal :  at  first  before  the  cour  militaire, 
then  to  the  minister,  then  to  the  Emperor.  They  all  agreed 
that  Davoust  was  grossly  unjust ;  that  my  case  was  one  of 
the  greatest  hardship,  and  so  on ;  that  the  money  was  gone, 
and  there  was  no  help  for  it.  In  fact,  I  was  pitied  by  some, 
and  laughed  at  by  others ;  and  out  of  sheer  disgust  at  the 
deplorable  spectacle  I  presented,  a  daily  supplicant  at  some 
official  antechamber,  I  agreed  to  take  my  indemnity  in  the 
only  way  that  offered,  —  a  commission  in  the  newly  raised 


508  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

Polish  Legion,  where  I  served  for  two  years,  and  quitted 
three  days  ago  in  the  manner  you  witnessed." 

His  narrative  scarcely  occupied  more  words  than  I  have 
given  it.  He  told  me  the  story  as  we  led  our  horses  up  a 
narrow  bridle-path  that  ascended  from  the  river's  side  to 
a  little  elevated  terrace  where  a  cottage  stood. 

"There,"  said  he,  pointing  with  his  whip,  "there  is  my 
■pied  a  terre,  all  that  I  possess  in  the  world,  after  twenty 
years  of  more  persevering  pursuit  of  wealth  than  any  man  in 
Europe.  Ay,  Gervois,  for  us  who  are  not  born  to  the  high 
places  in  this  world,  there  is  but  one  road  open  to  power, 
and  that  is  money !  It  matters  not  whether  the  influence 
be  exerted  by  a  life  of  splendor  or  an  existence  of  misera- 
ble privation,  —  money  is  power,  and  the  only  power  that 
every  faction  acknowledges  and  bows  down  to.  He  who 
lends  is  the  master,  and  he  who  borrows  is  the  slave. 
That  is  a  doctrine  that  monarchs  and  democrats  all  agree 
in.  The  best  proof  I  can  afford  you  that  my  opinion  is 
sincere  lies  in  the  simple  fact  that  he  who  utters  the  senti- 
ment lives  here ;  "  and  with  these  words  he  tapped  with  the 
head  of  his  riding-whip  at  the  door  of  the  cottage. 

Although  only  an  hour  after  the  sun  set,  the  windows 
were  barred  and  shuttered  for  the  night,  and  all  within 
seemingly  had  retired  to  rest.  The  Count  repeated  his 
summons  louder;  and  at  last  the  sounds  of  heavy  sabots 
were  heard  approaching  the  door.  It  was  opened  at  length, 
and  a  sturdy-looking  peasant  woman,  in  the  long-eared  cap 
and  woollen  jacket  of  the  country,  asked  what  we  wanted. 

"  Don't  you  know  me,  Lisette?  "  said  the  Count.  "  How 
is  madame  ? " 

The  brown  cheeks  of  the  woman  became  suddenly  pale, 
and  she  had  to  grasp  the  door  for  support  before  she  could 
speak. 

"  Eh  lieu  !  "  said  he,  accosting  her  familiarly  in  the  patois 
of  the  land,  "  what  is  it?  what  has  happened  here?" 

The  woman  looked  at  me  and  then  at  him,  as  though  to 
say  that  she  desired  to  speak  to  him  apart.  I  understood 
the  glance,  and  fell  back  to  a  little  distance,  occupying 
myself  with  my  horse,  ungirthing  the  saddle,  and  so  on. 
The  few  minutes  thus  employed  were  passed  in  close  whis- 


TOWARDS   HOME.  509 

pering  by  the  others,  at  the  end  of  which  the  Count  said 
aloud,  — 

"Well,  who  is  to  look  after  the  beasts?  Is  Louis  not 
here  ?  " 

"  He  was  at  Dinant,  but  would  return  presently." 

"  Be  it  so,"  said  the  Count ;  "  we  '11  stable  them  ourselves. 
Meanwhile,  Lisette,  prepare  something  for  our  supper.  —  Li- 
sette  has  not  her  equal  for  an  omelet,"  said  he  to  me,  "  and 
when  the  Meuse  yields  us  fresh  trout,  you  '11  acknowledge 
that  her  skill  will  not  discredit  them." 

The  woman's  face,  as  he  spoke  these  words  in  an  easy, 
jocular  tone,  was  actually  ghastly.  It  seemed  as  if  she  were 
contending  against  some  sickening  sensation  that  was  over- 
powering her,  for  her  eyes  lost  all  expression,  and  her  ruddy 
lips  grew  livid.  The  only  answer  was  a  brief  nod  of  her 
head  as  she  turned  away  and  re-entered  the  house.  I 
watched  the  Count  narrowly  as  we  busied  ourselves  about 
our  horses,  but  nothing  could  be  possibly  more  calm,  and  to 
all  seeming  unconcerned,  than  his  bearing  and  manner.  The 
few  words  he  spoke  were  in  reference  to  objects  around  us, 
and  uttered  with  careless  ease. 

When  we  entered  the  cottage  we  found  Lisette  had  already 
spread  a  cloth,  and  was  making  preparations  for  our  supper ; 
and  Ysaffich,  with  the  readiness  of  an  old  campaigner,  pro- 
ceeded to  aid  her  in  these  details.  At  last  she  left  the  room, 
and,  looking  after  her  for  a  second  or  two  in  silence,  he  said 
compassionately,  — 

"  Poor  creature!  she  takes  this  to  heart  far  more  heavily 
than  I  could  have  thought ;  "  and  then,  seeing  that  the  words 
were  not  quite  intelligible  to  me,  he  added,  "Yes,  mon  cher 
Gregoire,  I  am  a  bachelor  once  more  ;  Madame  the  Countess 
has  left  me !  "Weary  of  a  life  of  poverty  to  which  she  had 
been  so  long  unaccustomed,  she  has  returned  to  the  world 
again  —  to  the  stage,  perhaps  —  who  knows?"  added  he, 
with  a  careless  indifference,  and  as  though  dismissing  the 
theme  from  his  thoughts  forever. 

I  had  never  liked  him,  but  at  no  time  of  our  intercourse 
did  he  appear  so  thoroughly  odious  to  me  as  when  he  uttered 
these  words. 

There  is  some  strange  fatality  in  the  way  our  characters 


510  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

are  frequently  impressed  by  circumstances  and  intimacies 
which  seem  the  veriest  accidents.  We  linger  in  some  bane 
ful  climate  till  it  has  made  its  fatal  inroad  on  our  health ; 
and  so  we  as  often  dally  amidst  associations  fully  as  danger- 
ous and  deadly.  In  this  way  did  I  continue  to  live  on  with 
Ysaffich,  daily  resolving  to  leave  him,  and  yet,  by  some 
curious  chain  of  events,  bound  up  inseparably  with  his  for- 
tunes. At  one  moment  his  poverty  was  the  tie  between  us. 
We  supported  ourselves  by  the  chasse,  a  poor  and  most  pre- 
carious livelihood,  and  one  which  we  well  knew  would  fail 
us  when  the  spring  came.  At  other  moments  he  would  gain 
an  influence  over  me  by  the  exercise  of  that  sanguine,  hope- 
ful spirit  which  seemed  never  to  desert  him.  He  saw,  or 
affected  to  see,  that  the  great  drama  of  revolution  which 
closed  the  century  in  France  must  yet  be  played  out  over 
the  length  and  breadth  of  Europe,  and  that  in  this  great  piece 
the  chief  actors  would  be  those  who  had  all  to  gain  and 
nothing  to  lose  by  the  convulsion.  "We  shall  have  good 
parts  in  the  play,  Gregoire,"  would  he  repeat  to  me,  time 
after  time,  till  he  thoroughly  filled  my  mind  with  ambitions 
that  rose  far  above  the  region  of  all  probability,  and,  worse 
still,  that  utterly  silenced  every  whisper  of  conscience  within 
me. 

Had  he  attempted  to  corrupt  me  by  the  vulgar  ideas  of 
wealth,  —  by  the  splendor  of  a  life  of  luxurious  ease  and 
enjoyment,  with  all  the  appliances  of  riches,  —  it  is  more 
than  likely  he  would  have  failed.  He  however  assailed  me 
by  my  weak  side  :  the  delight  I  always  experienced  in  acts 
of  protection  and  benevolence  —  the  pleasure  I  felt  in  being 
regarded  by  others  as  their  good  genius  —  this  was  a  flattery 
that  never  ceased  to  sway  me !  The  selfishness  of  such  a 
part  lay  so  hidden  from  view ;  there  was  a  plausibility  in 
one's  conviction  of  being  good  and  amiable,  —  that  the  enjoy- 
ment became  really  of  a  higher  order  than  usually  waits  on 
mere  egotism.  I  had  been  long  estranged  from  the  world, 
so  far  as  the  ties  of  affection  and  friendship  existed.  For 
me  there  was  neither  home  nor  family,  and  yet  I  yearned  for 
what  would  bind  me  to  the  cause  of  my  fellow-men.  All  my 
thoughts  were  now  centred  on  this  object,  and  innumerable 
were  the  projects  by  which  I  amused  my  imagination  about 


TOWARDS  HOME.  511 

it.  Ysafflch  perhaps  detected  this  clew  to  my  confidence. 
At  all  events,  he  made  it  the  pivot  of  all  reasonings  with  me. 
To  be  powerless  with  good  intentions  —  to  have  the  "  will  " 
to  work  for  good,  and  yet  want  the  "  way  "  — was,  he  would 
say,  about  the  severest  torture  poor  humanity  could  be  called 
on  to  endure.  When  he  had  so  far  imbued  my  mind  with 
these  notions  that  he  found  me  not  only  penetrated  with  his 
own  views,  but  actually  employing  his  own  reasonings,  his 
very  expressions,  to  maintain  them,  he  then  advanced  a  step 
further ;  and  this  was  to  demonstrate  that  to  every  success 
in  life  there  was  a  compromise  attached,  as  inseparable  as 
were  shadow  and  substance. 

"  Was  there  not,"  he  would  say,  "  a  compensation  attached 
to  every  great  act  of  statesmanship,  to  every  brilliant  suc- 
cess in  war,  —  in  fact,  to  every  grand  achievement,  wherever 
and  however  accomplished?  It  is  simply  a  question  of 
weighing  the  evil  against  the  good,  whatever  we  do  in  life ; 
and  he  is  the  best  of  us  who  has  the  largest  balance  in  the 
scales  of  virtue." 

When  a  subtle  theory  takes  possession  of  the  mind,  it  is 
curious  to  mark  with  what  ingenuity  examples  will  suggest 
themselves  to  sustain  and  support  it.  Ysafflch  possessed  a 
ready  memory,  and  never  failed  to  supply  me  with  illustra- 
tions of  his  system.  There  was  scarcely  a  good  or  great 
name  of  ancient  or  modern  times  that  he  could  not  bring 
within  this  category ;  and  many  an  hour  have  we  passed  in 
disputing  the  claims  of  this  one  or  that  to  be  accounted  as 
the  benefactor  or  the  enemy  of  mankind.  If  I  recall  these 
memories  now,  it  is  simply  to  show  the  steps  by  which  a 
mind  far  more  subtle  and  acute  than  my  own  succeeded  in 
establishing  its  influence  over  me. 

I  have  said  that  we  were  very  poor ;  our  resources  were 
derived  from  the  scantiest  of  all  supplies;  and  even  these, 
as  the  spring  drew  nigh,  showed  signs  of  failure.  If  I  at 
times  regarded  our  future  with  gloomy  anticipations,  my 
companion  never  did  so.  On  the  contrary,  his  hopeful  spirit 
seemed  to  rise  under  the  pressure  of  each  new  sufferance, 
and  he  constantly  cheered  me  by  saying,  "  The  tide  must 
ebb  soon."  It  is  true,  this  confidence  did  not  prevent  him 
suggesting  various  means  by  which  we  might  eke  out  a 
livelihood. 


512  SIR   JASPER   CAREW. 

"It  is  the  same  old  story  over  again,"  said  he  to  me  one 
day,  as  we  sat  at  our  meal  of  dry  bread  and  water.  "  Ar- 
chimedes could  have  moved  the  world  had  he  had  a  support 
whereon  to  station  his  lever,  and  so  with  me ;  I  could  at  this 
very  moment  rise  to  wealth  and  power,  could  I  but  find  a 
similar  appliance.  There  is  a  million  to  be  made  on  the 
Bourse  of  Amsterdam  any  morning,  if  one  only  could  pay 
for  a  courier  who  should  arrive  at  speed  from  the  Danube 
with  the  news  of  a  defeat  of  the  French  army.  A  lighted 
tar- barrel  in  the  midst  of  the  English  fleet  at  Spithead 
would  n't  cost  a  deal  of  money,  and  yet  might  do  great 
things  towards  changing  the  fortunes  of  mankind.  And 
even  here,"  added  he,  taking  a  letter  from  his  pocket,  "  even 
here  are  the  means  of  wealth  and  fortune  to  both  of  us,  if 
I  could  rely  on  you  for  the  requisite  energy  and  courage  to 
play  your  part." 

"I  have  at  least  had  courage  to  shai'e  your  fortunes," 
said  I,  half  angrily;  "and  even  that  much  might  exempt  me 
from  the  reproach  of  cowardice." 

Not  heeding  my  taunt  in  the  slightest,  he  resumed  his 
speech  with  slow  and  deliberate  words :  — 

"  I  found  this  paper  last  night  by  a  mere  accident,  when 
looking  over  some  old  letters ;  but,  unfortunately,  it  is  not 
accompanied  by  any  other  document  which  could  aid  us, 
though  I  have  searched  closely  to  discover  such." 

So  often  had  it  been  my  fate  to  hear  him  hold  forth  on 
similar  themes  —  on  incidents  which  lacked  but  little,  the 
veriest  trifle,  to  lead  to  fortune  —  that  I  confess  I  paid 
slight  attention  to  his  words,  and  scarcely  heard  him  as  he 
went  on  describing  how  he  had  chanced  upon  his  present 
discovery,  when  he  suddenly  startled  me  by  saying,  — 

"  And  yet,  even  now,  if  you  were  of  the  stuff  to  dare  it, 
there  is  wherewithal  in  that  letter  to  make  you  a  great  man, 
and  both  of  us  rich  ones." 

Seeing  that  he  had  at  least  secured  my  attention,  he  went 
on:  — 

"  You  remember  the  first  time  we  ever  met,  Gervois,  and 
the  evening  of  our  arrival  at  Hamburg.  Well,  on  that  same 
night  there  occurred  to  me  the  thought  of  making  your 
fortune  and  my  own ;  and  when  I  shall  have  explained  to 
you  how,  you  will  probably  look  less  incredulous  than  you 


TOWARDS  HOME.  513 

now  do.  You  may  remember  that  the  first  husband  of 
Madame  von  Geysiger  was  a  rich  merchant  of  Hamburg. 
Well,  there  chanced  to  be  in  his  employment  a  certain  Eng- 
lish clerk  who  conducted  all  his  correspondence  with  foreign 
countries,  —  a  man  of  great  business  knowledge  and  strict 
probity,  and  by  whose  means  Von  Geysiger  once  escaped 
the  risk  of  total  bankruptcy.  Full  of  gratitude  for  his 
services,  Von  Geysiger  wished  to  give  him  a  partnership 
in  the  house ;  but  however  flattering  the  prospect  for  one  of 
humble  means,  he  positively  rejected  the  offer;  and  when 
pressed  for  his  reasons  for  so  doing,  at  last  owned  that  he 
could  not  consistently  pledge  himself  to  adhere  to  the  for- 
tunes of  his  benefactor,  since  he  had  in  heart  devoted  his 
life  to  another  object,  —  one  for  which  he  then  only  labored 
to  obtain  means  to  prosecute.  I  do  not  believe  that  the 
secret  to  which  he  alluded  was  divulged  at  the  time,  nor 
even  for  a  long  while  after ;  but  at  length  it  came  out  that 
this  poor  fellow  had  no  other  aim  in  life  than  to  find  out  the 
heir  to  a  certain  great  estate  in  England  which  had  lapsed 
from  its  rightful  owner,  and  to  obtain  the  document  which 
should  establish  his  claim.  To  this  end  he  had  associated 
himself  with  some  relative  of  the  missing  youth,  —  a  lady  of 
rank,  I  have  heard  tell,  and  of  considerable  personal  attrac- 
tions, who  had  braved  poverty  and  hardship  of  the  severest 
kind  in  the  pursuit  of  this  one  object.  I  do  not  know 
where  they  had  not  travelled,  nor  what  amount  of  toil  they 
had  not  bestowed  on  this  search.  Occasionally,  allured  by 
some  apparent  clew,  they  had  visited  the  most  remote  parts 
of  the  Continent;  and  at  last,  acting  on  some  information 
derived  from  one  of  their  many  agents,  they  left  Europe  for 
America.  That  the  pursuit  is  still  unsuccessful,  an  adver- 
tisement that  I  saw,  a  few  days  back,  in  a  Dutch  newspaper, 
assures  me.  A  large  reward  is  there  offered  for  any  one 
who  can  give  certain  information  as  to  the  surviving  relatives 
of  a  French  lady,  —  the  name  I  forget,  but  which  at  the 
time  I  remembered  as  one  of  those  connected  with  this 
story.  And  now,  to  apply  the  case  to  yourself,  there  were 
so  many  circumstances  of  similitude  in  the  fortunes  of  this 
youth  and  your  own  life  that  it  occurred  to  me,  and  not 
alone  to  me,  but  to  another,  to  make  you  his  representative." 

33 


514  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

For  a  moment  I  scarcely  knew  whether  to  be  indignant  or 
amused  at  this  shameless  avowal ;  but  the  absurdity  over- 
came my  anger,  and  I  laughed  long  and  heartily  at  it. 

"Laugh  if  you  will,  my  dear  Gervois,"  said  he;  "but 
you  are  not  the  first,  nor  will  you  be  the  last,  kite  who  has 
roosted  in  the  eagle's  nest.  Take  my  word  for  it,  with  all 
the  cares  and  provisions  of  law,  it  is  seldom  enough  that 
the  rightful  heir  sits  in  the  hall  of  his  fathers ;  and,  in  the 
present  case,  we  know  that  the  occupant  is  a  mere  pre- 
tender; so  that  your  claim,  or  mine,  if  you  like  it,  is  fully 
as  good  as  his  to  be  there." 

"  You  have  certainly  excited  my  curiosity  on  one  point," 
said  I,  "  and  it  is  to  know  where  the  resemblance  lies 
between  this  gentleman's  case  and  my  own ;  pray  tell  me 
that !  " 

"Easily  enough,"  said  he,  "and  from  the  very  papers  in 
my  hand :  a  mixed  parentage,  French  and  English  —  a  fa- 
ther of  one  country,  a  mother  of  another  —  a  life  of  scrapes 
and  vicissitudes ;  but,  better  than  all,  a  position  so  isola- 
ted that  none  can  claim  you.  There,  my  dear  Gervois, 
there  is  the  best  feature  in  the  whole  case ;  and  if  I  could 
only  inspire  your  heart  with  a  dash  of  the  ambitious  dar- 
ing that  fills  my  own,  it  is  not  on  a  straw  bed  nor  a  star- 
vation diet  we  should  speculate  over  the  future  before  us. 
Just  fancy,  if  you  can,  the  glorious  life  of  ease  and  enjoy- 
ment that  would  reward  us  if  we  succeed ;  and  as  to  fail- 
ure, conjure  up,  if  you  are  able,  anything  worse  than  this ;  " 
and  as  he  spoke  he  made  a  gesture  with  his  hand  towards 
the  wretched  furniture  of  our  humble  chamber. 

"You  seem  to  exclude  from  your  calculation  all  question 
of  right  and  wrong,"  said  I,  "of  justice  or  injustice." 

"  I  have  already  told  you  that  he  who  now  enjoys  this 
estate  is  not  its  real  owner.  It  is,  to  all  purposes,  a  dis- 
puted territory,  where  the  strongest  may  plant  his  flag,  — 
yours  to-day ;  another  may  advance  to  the  conquest  to-mor- 
row. I  only  say  that  to  fellows  like  us,  who,  for  aught  I 
see,  may  have  to  take  the  high-road  for  a  livelihood,  this 
chance  is  not  to  be  despised." 

"  Then  why  not  yourself  attempt  it?  " 

"  For  two  sufficient  reasons.     I  am  a  Pole,  and  my  na- 


TOWARDS  HOME.  515 

tionality  can  be  proved ;  and,  secondly,  I  am  full  ten  years 
too  old:    this  youth  was  born  about  the  year  17«2." 

"  The  very  year  of  my  own  birth !  "  said  I. 

"By  Jove,  Gervois !  everything  would  seem  to  aid  us. 
There  is  but  one  deficiency,"  added  he,  after  a  pause,  and 
a  look  towards  me  of  such  significance  that  I  could  not 
misunderstand  it. 

"  I  know  what  you  mean,"  said  I ;  "  the  want  lies  in  me, 
—  in  my  lack  of  energy  and  courage.  I  might,  perhaps, 
give  another  name  to  it,"  added  I,  after  waiting  in  vain  for 
some  reply  on  his  part,  "  and  speak  of  reluctance  to  become 
a  swindler." 

A  long  silence  now  ensued  between  us.  Each  seemed  to 
feel  that  another  word  might  act  like  a  spark  in  a  magazine, 
and  produce  a  fearful  explosion ;  and  so  we  sat,  scarcely 
daring  to  look  each  other  in  the  face.  As  we  remained 
thus,  my  eyes  fell  upon  the  paper  in  his  hand,  and  read  the 
following  words  :  "  Son  of  Walter  Carew,  of  Castle  Carew, 
and  Josephine  de  Courtois,  his  wife,"  I  snatched  the  docu- 
ment from  his  fingers,  and  read  on.  "The  proof  of  this 
marriage  wanting,  but  supposed  to  have  been  solemnized 
at  or  about  the  year  1780  or  '81.  No  trace  of  Mademoiselle 
de  Courtois'  family  obtainable,  save  her  relationship  to  Count 
de  Gabriac,  who  died  in  England  three  years  ago.  The 
youth  Jasper  Carew  served  in  the  Bureau  of  the  Minister  of 
War  at  Paris  in  '95,  and  was  afterwards  seen  in  the  provin- 
ces, supposed  to  be  employed  by  the  Legitimist  party  as 
an  agent;  traced  thence  to  England,  and  believed  to  have 
gone  to  America,  or  the  West  Indies."  Then  followed  some 
vague  speculations  as  to  where  and  how  this  youth  was 
possibly  employed,  and  some  equally  delusive  guesses  as  to 
the  signs  by  which  he  might  be  recognized. 

"  Does  that  interest  you,  Gervois?  "  said  Ysaflich.  "  This 
is  the  best  part  of  the  narrative,  to  my  thinking  ;  read  that, 
and  say  if  your  heart  does  not  bound  at  the  very  notion  of 
such  a  prize." 

The  paper  which  he  now  handed  to  me  was  closely  and 
carefully  written,  and  headed,  "  Descriptive  sketch  of  the 
lands  and  estate  of  the  late  Walter  Carew,  Esq.,  known  as 
the  demesne  of  Castle  Carew,  in  the  county  of  Wicklow,  in 
Ireland." 


51G  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

"  Two  thousand  seven  hundred  acres  of  a  park,  and  a 
princely  mansion!"  exclaimed  the  Count.  "An  estate  of 
at  least  twelve  thousand  pounds  a  year !  Gervois,  my  boy, 
why  not  attempt  it?  " 

"  You  talk  wildly,  Ysafflch,"  said  I,  restraining  by  a  great 
effort  the  emotions  that  were  almost  suffocating  me.  "Be- 
think you  who  I  am,  —  poor,  friendless,  and  unprotected. 
Take  it,  even,  that  I  had  the  most  indisputable  right  to 
this  fortune ;  assume,  if  you  will,  that  I  am  the  very  person 
here  alluded  to, —  where  is  there  a  single  document  to  prove 
my  claim  ?  Should  I  not  be  scouted  at  the  bare  mention  of 
such  pretensions  ?  " 

"  That  would  all  depend  on  the  way  the  affair  was  man- 
aged," said  he.  "  If  these  solicitors  whose  names  and 
addresses  I  have  here,  were  themselves  convinced  or  even 
disposed  to  credit  the  truth  of  the  tale  we  should  tell  them, 
they  would  embark  in  the  suit  with  all  their  influence  and 
all  their  wealth.  Once  engaged  in  it,  self-interest  would 
secure  their  zealous  co-operation.  As  to  documents,  proofs, 
and  all  that,  these  things  are  a  material  that  lawyers  know 
how  to  supply,  or,  if  need  be,  explain  the  absence  of.  Of 
this  missing  youth's  story  I  already  know  enough  for  our 
purpose ;  and  when  you  have  narrated  for  me  your  own  life, 
we  will  arrange  the  circumstances  together,  and  weave  of 
the  two  one  consistent  and  plausible  tale.  Take  my  word 
for  it,  that  if  we  can  once  succeed  in  interesting  counsel  in 
your  behalf,  the  very  novelty  of  the  incident  will  enlist 
public  sympathy.  Jurors  are,  after  all,  but  representatives 
of  that  same  passing  opinion,  and  will  be  well  disposed  to 
befriend  our  cause.  I  speak  as  if  the  matter  must  come  to 
a  head ;  but  it  need  not  go  so  far.  When  our  plans  are 
laid  and  all  our  advances  duly  prepared,  we  may  condescend 
to  treat  with  the  enemy.  Ay,  Gervois,  we  may  be  inclined 
to  accept  a  compromise  of  our  claim.  These  things  are 
done  every  day.  The  men  who  seem  to  sit  in  all  the 
security  of  undisturbed  possession  are  buying  off  demands 
here,  paying  hush-money  to  this  man,  and  bribery  to 
that." 

"  But  if  the  real  claimant  should  appear  on  the  stage  —  " 

"  I  have  reason  to  believe  he  is  dead  these  many  years," 
said  he,  interrupting  ;   "  but  were  it  otherwise,  these  friends 


TOWARDS  HOME.  517 

of  his  are  of  such  a  scrupulous  temperament,  they  would  not 
adventure  on  the  suit  without  such  a  mass  of  proof  as  no 
concurrence  of  accidents  could  possibly  accumulate.  They 
have  not  the  nerve  to  accomplish  an  undertaking  of  this 
kind,  where  much  must  be  hazarded,  and  many  things  done 
at  risk." 

"  Which  means,  in  plain  words,  done  fraudulently,"  said 
I,  solemnly. 

"  Let  us  not  fall  out  about  words,"  said  he,  smiling. 
"  When  a  state  issues  a  paper  currency,  it  waits  for  the  day 
of  prosperity  to  recall  the  issue  and  redeem  the  debt ;  and 
if  we  live  and  do  well,  what  shall  prevent  us  making  an 
equally  good  use  of  our  fortune?  But  you  may  leave  all 
this  to  me;  I  will  undertake  every  document,  from  the 
certificate  of  your  father's  marriage  to  your  own  baptism ; 
I  will  legalize  you  and  legitimatize  you ;  you  have  only  to 
be  passive." 

"I  half  suspect,  Count,"  said  I,  laughing,  "that  if  my 
claim  to  this  estate  were  a  real  one,  I  should  not  be  so  sure 
of  your  aid  and  assistance." 

"  And  you  are  right  there,  Gervois.  It  is  in  the  very 
daring  and  danger  of  this  pursuit  I  feel  the  pleasure.  The 
game  on  which  I  risk  nothing  has  no  excitement  for  me ; 
but  here  the  stake  is  a  heavy  one." 

"And  how  would  you  proceed  ?"  asked  I,  not  heeding 
this  remark. 

"By  opening  a  correspondence  with  Bickering  and  Ragge, 
the  lawyers.  They  have  long  been  in  search  of  the  heir, 
and  would  be  delighted  to  hear  there  were  any  tidings  of 
his  existence.  My  name  is  already  known  to  them,  and  I 
could  address  them  with  confidence.  They  would,  of  course, 
require  to  see  you,  and  either  come  over  here  or  send  for 
you.  In  either  case  you  would  be  preceded  by  your  story  ; 
the  family  parts  should  be  supplied  by  me ;  the  other  details 
you  should  fill  in  at  will.  All  this,  however,  should  be 
concerted  together.  The  first  point  is  your  consent,  —  your 
hearty  consent;  and  even  that  I  would  not  accept,  unless 
ratified  by  a  solemn  oath,  to  persist  to  the  last,  and  never 
falter  nor  give  in  to  the  end.  whatever  it  be !  " 

I  at  first  hesitated,  but  at  last  consented  to  give  the  re- 
quired  pledge ;   and   though  for  a  while  it  occurred  to  me 


518  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

that  a  frank  avowal  of  my  real  claim  to  be  the  person  desig- 
nated might  best  suit  the  object  I  had  in  view,  I  suddenly 
bethought  me  that  if  Ysafflch  once  believed  that  he  himself 
was  not  the  prime  mover  in  the  scheme,  and  that  I  was 
other  than  a  mere  puppet  in  his  hand,  he  was  far  more 
likely  to  mar  than  to  make  our  fortune.  Intrigue  and  trick 
were  the  very  essence  of  the  man's  nature ;  and  it  was 
enough  that  the  truthful  entered  into  anything  to  destroy 
its  whole  value  or  interest  in  his  eyes.  That  this  plot  had 
long  been  lying  in  his  mind,  I  had  but  to  remember  the 
night  in  the  garden  at  Hamburg  to  be  convinced  of,  and 
since  that  time  he  had  never  ceased  to  ruminate  upon  it. 
Indeed,  he  now  told  me  that  it  constantly  occurred  to  him  to 
fancy  that  this  piece  of  success  was  to  be  a  crowning  recom- 
pense for  a  long  life  of  reverses  and  failures. 

How  gladly  did  my  thoughts  turn  from  him  and  all  his 
crafty  counsels  to  think  of  that  true  friend,  poor  Raper,  and 
my  dear,  dear  mother,  as  I  used  to  call  her,  who  had,  in  the 
midst  of  their  own  hard  trials,  devoted  their  best  energies 
to  my  cause.  It  is  not  necessary  to  say  that  Raper  was  the 
faithful  clerk,  and  Polly  the  unknown  lady  who  had  given 
the  impulse  to  this  search.  The  papers,  of  which  Ysafflch 
showed  me  several,  were  all  in  the  handwriting  of  one  or 
other  of  them ;  a  few  of  my  father's  own  letters  were  also 
in  one  packet,  and  though  referring  to  matters  far  remote 
from  this  object,  had  an  indescribable  interest  for  me. 

"  Seven  years  ago,"  said  the  Count,  "  this  estate  was  in 
the  possession  of  a  certain  Mr.  Curtis,  who  claimed  to  be 
the  next  of  kin  of  the  late  owner,  and  who,  I  believe,  was 
so,  in  the  failure  of  this  youth's  legitimacy.  This  is  now 
our  great  fact,  since  we  have  already  found  the  individual. 
Eh,  Gervois?"  said  he,  laughing.  "  Our  man  is  here,  and 
from  this  hour  forth  your  name  is  —  let  me  see  what  it  is  — 
ay,  here  we  have  it:  Jasper  Carew,  son  of  Walter  Carew 
and  Josephine  de  Courtois,  his  wife." 

"  Jasper  Carew  am  I  from  this  day,  then,  and  never  to 
be  called  by  any  other  name,"  said  I. 

"Ay,  but  you  must  have  your  lesson  perfect,"  said  he; 
"  you  must  not  forget  the  name  of  your  parents." 

"  Never  fear,"  said  I;  "  Walter  Carew  and  Josephine  de 
Courtois  are  easily  remembered." 


TOWARDS  HOME.  519 

"  Ail  correct,"  said  he,  well  pleased  at  my  accuracy. 
"  Now,  as  to  family  history,  this  paper  will  tell  you  enough. 
It  is  drawn  out  by  Mr.  Raper,  and  is  minutely  exact.  There 
is  not  a  strong  point  of  the  case  omitted,  nor  a  weak  one 
forgotten.  Read  it  over  carefully ;  mark  the  points  in 
which  you  trace  resemblance  to  your  own  life ;  study  well 
where  any  divergence  or  difficulty  may  occur ;  and,  lastly, 
draw  up  a  brief  memoir  in  the  character  of  Jasper  Carew, 
with  all  your  recollections  of  childhood:  for  remember  that 
up  to  the  age  of  twelve  or  thirteen,  if  not  later,  you  were 
domesticated  with  this  Countess  de  Gabriac,  and  educated 
by  Raper.  After  that  you  are  free  to  follow  out  what 
fancy,  or  reality,  if  you  like  it  better,  may  suggest.  When 
you  have  drawn  up  everything,  with  all  the  consistency  and 
plausibility  you  can,  avoid  none  of  the  real  difficulties,  but 
rather  show  yourself  fully  aware  of  them,  and  also  of  all 
their  importance.  Let  the  task  of  having  persuaded  you 
to  address  Messrs.  Bickering  and  Ragge  be  left  to  me;  I 
have  already  held  correspondence  with  them,  and  on  this 
very  subject.  I  give  you  three  days  to  do  this ;  meanwhile 
I  start  at  once  for  Brussels,  where  I  can  consult  a  lawyer, 
an  old  friend  of  mine,  as  to  our  first  steps  in  the 
campaign." 

The  man  who  stoops  once  to  a  minute  dissection  of  his 
life  must  perforce  steel  his  heart  against  many  a  sense  of 
shame,  since  even  in  the  story  of  the  good  and  the  upright 
are  passages  of  dark  omen,  moments  when  the  bad  has 
triumphed,  and  seasons  when  the  true  has  been  postponed 
by  the  false.  It  is  not  now  that,  having  revealed  so  much  as 
I  have  done  of  my  secret  history,  I  dare  make  any  preten- 
sions to  superior  honesty,  or  affect  to  be  one  of  the  "  unblem- 
ished few."  Still,  I  have  a  craving  desire  not  to  be  judged 
over  harshly,  — a  painful  feeling  of  anxiety  that  no  evil  con- 
struction should  be  put  upon  those  actions  of  my  life  othef 
than  what  they  absolutely  merit.  My  "  over-reachings " 
have  been  many, — my  "shortcomings"  still  more;  but, 
with  all  their  weight  and  gravity  before  me,  I  still  entreat 
a  merciful  judgment,  and  hope  that  if  the  sentence  be 
"  guilty,"  there  will  be  at  least  the  alleviation  of  "  attenuat- 
ing circumstances." 


520  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

I  am  now  an  old  man ;  the  world  has  no  more  any  bribe 
to  my  ambition  than  have  I  within  me  the  energy  to  attempt 
it.  The  friendships  that  warmed  up  the  late  autumn  of  my 
life  are  departed ;  they  lie  in  the  churchyard,  and  none  have 
ever  replaced  them.  In  these  confessions,  therefore,  humil- 
iating as  they  often  would  seem,  there  are  none  to  suffer 
pain.  I  make  them  at  the  cost  of  my  own  feelings  alone, 
and  in  some  sense  I  do  so  as  an  act  of  atonement  and 
reparation  to  a  world  that,  with  some  hard  lessons,  has  still 
treated  me  with  kindness,  and  to  whom,  with  the  tremulous 
fingers  of  old  age,  I  write  myself  most  grateful. 

If  they  who  read  this  story  suppose  that  I  should  not 
have  hesitated  to  propose  myself  a  claimant  for  an  estate 
to  which  I  had  no  right,  I  have  no  better  answer  to  give 
them  than  a  mere  denial,  and  even  that  uttered  in  all 
humility,  since  it  comes  from  one  whose  good  name  has 
been  impeached,  and  whose  good  faith  may  be  questioned. 
Still  do  I  repeat  it,  this  was  an  act  I  could  not  have  done. 
There  is  a  kind  of  half-way  rectitude  in  the  world  which 
never  scruples  at  the  means  of  any  success  so  long  as  it 
injures  no  other,  but  which  recoils  from  the  thought  of  any 
advantage  obtained  at  another's  cost  and  detriment.  Such 
I  suspect  to  have  been  mine.  At  least,  I  can  declare  with 
truth  that  I  am  not  conscious  of  an  incident  in  my  life  which 
will  bear  the  opposite  construction. 

But  to  what  end  should  I  endeavor  to  defend  my  motives, 
since  my  actions  are  already  before  the  world,  and  each  will 
read  them  by  the  light  his  own  conscience  lends  ?  Let  me 
rather  hasten  to  complete  a  task  which,  since  it  has  involved 
an  apology,  has  become  almost  painful  to  pursue. 

So  successfully  had  Ysaffich  employed  his  time  at  Brussels 
that  a  well-known  notary  there  had  already  consented  to  aid 
our  plans  and  furnish  means  for  our  journey  to  England. 
I  cannot  go  over  with  minuteness  details  in  which  the 
deceptions  I  had  to  concur  in  still  revive  my  shame.  I 
could,  it  is  true,  recite  the  story  of  my  birth  and  parentage, 
my  early  years  abroad,  and  so  on,  with  the  conscious  force 
of  truth ;  but  there  were  supplementary  evidences  required 
of  me  with  which  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  comply. 
Ysaffich,  naturally  enough,  could  not  understand  the  delicacy 


TOWARDS  HOME.  521 

of  scruples  which  only  took  alarm  by  mere  caprice,  nor 
could  he  comprehend  why  he  who  was  willing  to  feign  a 
name  and  falsify  a  position  should  hesitate  about  assuming 
any  circumstances  that  might  be  useful  to  sustain  it. 

Of  course  I  could  not  explain  this  mystery,  and  was 
obliged  to  endure  all  the  sarcastic  allusions  he  vented  on  the 
acuteuess  of  my  sense  of  honor  and  the  extreme  susceptibil- 
ity of  my  notions  of  right.  It  chanced,  however,  that  this 
very  repugnance  on  my  part  should  prove  more  favorable 
for  us  than  all  his  most  artful  devices,  and  indeed  it  shows 
with  clearness  how  often  the  superadded  efforts  fraud  con- 
tributes to  insure  success  are  as  frequently  the  very  sources 
of  its  failure,  — just  as  we  see  in  darker  crimes  how  the  over 
care  and  caution  of  the  murderer  have  been  the  clew  that 
has  elicited  the  murder. 

Ysafhch  wished  me  to  detail,  amongst  the  memories  of  my 
childhood,  the  having  heard  often  of  the  great  estate  and 
vast  fortune  to  which  I  was  entitled.  He  wanted  me  to 
supply,  as  it  were  from  memory,  many  links  of  the  chain  of 
evidence  that  seemed  deficient,  —  vague  recollections  of  hav- 
ing heard  this,  that,  and  the  other ;  but,  with  an  obstinacy 
that  to  him  appeared  incomprehensible,  I  held  to  my  own 
unadorned  tale,  and  would  not  add  a  word  beyond  my  own 
conviction. 

Mr.  Ragge,  the  solicitor  by  whom  the  case  was  under- 
taken, seemed  most  favorably  impressed  by  this  reserve  on 
my  part ;  and,  far  from  being  discouraged  by  my  ignorance 
of  certain  points,  appeared,  on  the  contrary,  only  the  more 
satisfied  as  to  the  genuineness  of  my  story.  Over  and  over 
have  I  felt  in  my  conversations  with  him  how  impossible  it 
would  have  been  for  me  to  practise  any  deception  success- 
fully with  him.  "Without  any  semblance  of  cross-examina- 
tion, he  still  contrived  to  bring  me  again  and  again  over  the 
same  ground,  viewing  the  same  statement  from  different 
sides,  and  trying  to  discover  a  discrepancy  in  my  narrative. 
When  at  length  assured,  to  all  appearance,  at  least,  of  my 
being  the  person  I  claimed  to  be,  he  drew  up  a  statement  of 
my  case  for  counsel,  and  a  day  was  named  when  I  should  be 
personally  examined  by  a  distinguished  member  of  the  bar. 
I  cannot  even  now  recall  that  interview  without  a  thrill  of 


522  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

emotion.  My  sense  of  hope,  dashed  as  it  was  by  a  conscious 
feeling  that  I  was,  in  some  sort,  practising  a  deception,  — 
for  in  all  my  compact  with  Ysaffich  our  attempt  was  purely 
a  fraud,  —  I  entered  the  chamber  with  a  faltering  step  and 
a  failing  heart.  Far,  however,  from  questioning  and  cross- 
questioning,  like  the  solicitor,  the  lawyer  suffered  me  to  tell 
my  story  without  even  so  much  as  a  word  of  interruption. 
I  had,  I  ought  to  remark,  divested  my  tale  of  many  of  the 
incidents  which  really  befell  me.  I  made  my  life  one  of 
commonplace  events  and  unexciting  adventures,  in  which 
poverty  occupied  the  prominent  place.  I  as  cautiously 
abstained  from  all  mention  of  the  distinguished  persons  with 
whom  accident  had  brought  me  into  contact,  since  any 
allusion  to  them  would  have  compromised  the  part  I  was 
obliged  to  play  with  Ysaffich.  When  asked  what  documents 
or  written  evidence  I  had  to  adduce  in  support  of  my  pre- 
tensions, and  I  had  confessed  to  possessing  none,  the  old 
lawyer  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  and,  closing  his  eyes, 
seemed  lost  in  thought. 

"  At  the  best,"  said  he,  at  length,  "  it  is  a  case  for  a  com- 
promise. There  is  really  so  little  to  go  upon,  I  can  advise 
nothing  better." 

I  need  not  go  into  the  discussion  that  ensued  further  than 
to  say  the  weight  of  argument  was  on  the  side  of  those  who 
counselled  the  compromise,  and,  however  little  disposed  to 
yield,  I  felt  myself  overborne  by  numbers,  and  compelled  to 
give  in. 

Weeks,  even  months,  were  now  passed  without  any  appa- 
rent progress  in  our  suit.  The  party  in  possession  of  the 
estate  treated  our  first  advances  with  the  most  undisguised 
contempt,  and  even  met  our  proposals  with  menaces  of 
legal  vengeance.  Undeterred  by  these  signs  of  strength, 
Mr.  Ragge  persevered  in  his  search  for  evidence,  sent  his 
emissaries  hither  and  thither,  and  entered  upon  the  case 
with  all  the  warm  zeal  of  a  devoted  friend.  It  was  at  length 
thought  that  a  visit  to  Ireland  might  possibly  elicit  some 
information  on  certain  points,  and  thither  we  went  together. 

It  was  little  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century  since  the 
date  of  my  father's  death,  and  yet  such  had  been  the 
changes  in  the  condition  of  Ireland,  and  so  great  the  social 


TOWARDS   HOME.  523 

revolution  accomplished  there,  that  men  talked  of  the  bygone 
period  like  some  long-past  history.  The  days  of  the  parlia- 
ments, and  the  men  who  figured  in  them,  were  alike  for- 
gotten ;  and  although  there  were  many  who  had  known  my 
father  well,  all  memory,  not  to  speak  of  affection  for  him, 
had  lapsed  from  their  natures. 

Crowther  and  Fagan  were  dead,  but  Joe  Curtis  was  alive, 
and  continued  to  live  in  Castle  Carew  in  a  style  of  riotous 
debauchery  that  scandalized  the  whole  country.  In  fact,  the 
mere  mention  of  his  name  was  sufficient  to  elicit  the  most 
disgraceful  anecdotes  of  his  habits.  Unknown  to  and 
unrecognized  by  his  equals,  this  old  man  had  condescended 
to  form  intimacy  with  all  that  Dubliu  contained  of  the  pro- 
fligate and  abandoned;  and,  surrounded  by  men  and  women 
of  this  class,  his  days  and  nights  were  one  continued  orgie. 
Although  the  estate  was  a  large  one,  it  was  rumored  that  he 
was  deeply  in  debt,  and  only  obtained  means  for  this  waste- 
ful existence  by  loans  on  ruinous  conditions.  In  vain  Mr. 
Ragge  made  inquiries  for  some  one  who  might  possess  his 
confidence  and  have  the  legal  direction  of  his  affairs.  He 
had  changed  from  this  man  to  that  so  often  that  it  was 
scarcely  possible  to  discover  in  what  quarter  the  property 
was  managed.  Without  any  settled  plan  of  procedure,  but 
half  to  watch  the  eventualities  that  might  arise,  it  was  deter- 
mined that  I  should  proceed  to  Castle  Carew  and  present 
myself  as  the  son  and  the  heir  of  the  last  owner. 

If  there  were  circumstances  attendant  on  this  step  which 
I  by  no  means  fancied,  there  was  one  gratification  that  more 
than  atoned  for  them  all :  I  should  see  the  ancient  home  of 
my  family ;  the  halls  wherein  my  father's  noble  hospitalities 
had  been  practised ;  the  chamber  which  had  been  my  dear 
mother's !  I  own  that  the  sight  of  the  princely  domain  and 
all  its  attendant  wealth,  contrasting  with  my  own  poverty, 
served  to  extinguish  within  me  the  last  spark  of  hope.  How 
could  I  possibly  dream  of  success  against  the  power  of  such 
adjuncts  as  these?  Were  my  cause  fortified  by  every  docu- 
ment and  evidence,  how  little  would  it  avail  against  the  might 
of  vast  wealth  and  resources!  Curtis  would  laugh  my  pre- 
tensions to  scorn,  if  not  treat  them  with  greater  violence ; 
and  with  such  thoughts  I  found  myself  one  bright  morning 


524  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

of  June  slowly  traversing  the  approach  to  the  Castle.  The 
sight  of  the  dense  dark  woods,  the  swelling  lawns  dotted 
over  with  grazing  cattle,  the  distant  corn-fields  waving 
beneath  a  summer  wind,  and  the  tall  towers  of  the  Castle 
itself  far  off  above  the  trees,  all  filled  my  heart  with  a 
strange  chaos,  in  which  hope,  and  fear,  and  proud  ambi- 
tion, and  the  very  humblest  terrors  were  all  commingled. 
Although  my  plan  of  procedure  had  been  carefully  sketched 
out  for  me  by  Ragge,  so  confused  were  all  my  thoughts  that 
I  forgot  everything.  I  could  not  even  bethink  me  in  what 
character  and  with  what  pretension  I  was  to  present  myself, 
and  I  was  actually  at  the  very  entrance  of  the  Castle,  still 
trying  to  remember  the  part  I  was  to  play. 

There  before  me  rose  the  grand  and  massive  edifice,  to 
erect  which  had  been  one  of  the  chief  elements  of  my  poor 
father's  ruin.  Though  far  from  architecturally  correct  in  its 
details,  the  effect  of  the  whole  was  singularly  fine.  Between 
two  square  towers  of  great  size  extended  a  long  facade,  in 
which,  from  the  ornamented  style  of  architraves  and  brackets, 
it  was  easy  to  see  the  chief  suite  of  apartments  lay ;  and  in 
front  of  this  the  ground  had  been  artificially  terraced,  and 
gardens  formed  in  the  Italian  taste,  the  entire  being  defended 
by  a  deep  fosse  in  front,  and  crossed  by  a  drawbridge. 
Neglect  and  dilapidation  had,  however,  disfigured  all  these ; 
the  terraces  were  broken  down  by  the  cattle,  the  cordage  of 
the  bridge  hung  in  fragments  in  the  wind,  and  even  the 
stained-glass  windows  were  smashed,  and  their  places  filled 
by  paper  or  wooden  substitutes.  As  I  came  nearer,  these 
signs  of  ruin  and  devastation  were  still  more  apparent.  The 
marble  statues  were  fractured,  and  fissured  by  bullet-marks ; 
the  pastures  were  cut  up  by  horses'  feet;  and  even  frag- 
ments of  furniture  were  strewn  about,  as  though  thrown 
from  the  windows  in  some  paroxysm  of  passionate  debauch- 
ery. The  door  of  the  mansion  was  open,  and  evidences  of 
even  greater  decay  presented  themselves  within.  Massive 
cornices  of  carved  oak  hung  broken  and  shattered  from  the 
walls ;  richly  cut  wainscotings  were  split  and  fissured ;  a 
huge  marble  table  of  immense  thickness  was  smashed  through 
the  centre,  and  the  fragments  still  lay  scattered  on  the  floor 
where  they  had  fallen.     As  I  stood,  in  mournful  mood,  gaz- 


TOWARDS  HOME.  525 

ing  on  this  desecration  of  what  once  had  been  a  noble  and 
costly  estate,  an  ill-dressed,  slatternly  woman-servant  chanced 
to  cross  the  hall,  and  stopped  with  some  astonishment  to 
stare  at  me.  To  my  inquiry  if  I  could  see  Mr.  Curtis,  she 
replied  by  a  burst  of  laughter  too  natural  to  be  deemed 
offensive. 

"By  coorse  you  couldn't,"  said  she,  at  length;  "sure 
there's  nobody  stirrin',  nor  won't  be  these  two  hours." 

"  At  what  time,  then,  might  I  hope  to  be  more  fortunate?  " 

If  I  came  about  three  or  four  in  the  afternoon,  when  the 
gentlemen  were  at  breakfast,  I  might  see  Mr.  Archy,  — 
Archy  M'Clean. 

Tins  gentleman  was,  as  she  told  me,  the  nephew  of  Mr. 
Curtis,  and  his  reputed  heir. 

Having  informed  her  that  I  was  a  stranger  in  Ireland,  and 
come  from  a  long  distance  off  to  pay  this  visit,  she  good- 
naturedly  suffered  me  to  enter  the  house  and  rest  myself 
in  a  small  and  meanly  furnished  chamber  adjoining  the  hall. 
If  I  could  but  recall  the  sensations  which  passed  through  my 
mind  as  I  sat  in  that  solitary  room,  I  could  give  a  more 
correct  picture  of  my  nature  than  by  all  I  have  narrated  of 
my  actual  life.  Hour  after  hour  glided  by  at  first,  in  all  the 
stillness  of  midnight;  but  gradually  a  faint  noise  would  be 
heard  afar  off,  and  now  and  again  a  voice  would  echo  through 
the  long  corridors,  the  very  accents  of  which  seemed  to  bring 
up  thoughts  of  savage  revelry  and  debauch.  It  had  been 
decided  by  my  lawyers  that  I  should  present  myself  to 
Curtis,  without  any  previous  notification  of  my  identity  or 
my  claim ;  that,  in  fact,  not  to  prejudice  my  chances  of  suc- 
cess by  any  written  application  for  an  audience,  I  should 
contrive  to  see  him  without  his  having  expected  me ;  and 
thus  derive  whatever  advantage  might  accrue  from  any 
admissions  his  surprise  should  betray  him  into.  I  had  been 
drilled  into  my  part  by  repeated  lessons.  I  was  instructed 
as  to  every  word  I  was  to  utter,  and  every  phrase  I  was  to 
use ;  but  now  that  the  moment  to  employ  these  arts  drew 
nigh,  I  had  utterly  forgotten  them  all.  The  one  absorbing 
thought :  that  beneath  the  very  roof  under  which  I  now 
stood,  my  father  and  mother  had  lived ;  that  these  walls 
were  their  own  home ;   that  within  them  had    been  passed 


526  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

the  short  life  they  had  shared  together,  —  overcame  me  so 
completely  that  I  lost  all  consciousness  about  myself  and 
my  object  there. 

At  length  the  loud  tones  of  many  voices  aroused  me  from 
my  half  stupor,  and  on  drawing  nigh  the  door  I  perceived 
a  number  of  servants,  ill-dressed  and  disorderly  looking, 
carrying  hurriedly  across  the  hall  the  materials  for  a  break- 
fast. I  addressed  myself  to  one  of  these,  with  a  request  to 
know  when  and  how  I  could  see  Mr.  Curtis.  A  bold  stare 
and  a  rude  burst  of  laughter  was,  however,  the  only  reply 
he  made  me.  I  tried  another,  who  did  not  even  vouchsafe 
to  hear  more  than  half  my  question,  when  he  passed  on. 

"Is  it  possible,"  said  I,  indignantly,  "that  none  of  you 
will  take  a  message  for  your  master?  " 

"  Begad,  we  have  so  many  masters,"  said  one,  jocosely, 
"  it 's  hard  to  say  where  we  ought  to  deliver  it ;  "  and  the 
speech  was  received  with  a  roar  of  approving  laughter. 

"It  is  Mr.  Curtis  I  desire  to  see,"  said  I. 

"  It's  four  hours  too  early,  then,"  said  the  same  speaker. 
"  Old  Joe  won't  be  stirring  till  nigh  eight  o'clock.  If  Mr. 
Archy  would  do,  he  's  in  the  stables,  and  it 's  the  best  time 
to  talk  to  him." 

"And  if  it's  the  master  you  want,"  chimed  in  another, 
"  he  's  your  man." 

"  Lead  me  to  him,  then,"  said  I,  resolving  at  least  to 
see  the  person  who  claimed  to  be  supreme  in  this  strange 
household.  Traversing  a  number  of  passages  and  dirty, 
ill-kept  rooms,  we  descended  by  a  small  stone  stair  into  an 
ample  courtyard,  two  sides  of  which  were  occupied  by  ranges 
of  stables.  The  spacious  character  of  the  building  and  the 
costly  style  of  the  arrangements  were  evident  at  a  glance ; 
and  even  a  glance  was  all  that  I  had  time  for,  when  my 
guide,  whispering,  "  There  is  Mr.  Archy,"  hurriedly  with- 
drew and  left  me.  The  person  indicated  was  standing  as 
if  to  examine  a  young  horse  which  had  met  with  some  acci- 
dent, for  the  animal  could  scarcely  move,  and  with  the 
greatest  difficulty  could  bring  up  his  hind  legs. 

I  had  time  to  observe  him ;  and  certainly,  though  by  no 
means  deficient  as  regarded  good  features,  I  had  rarely  seen 
anything  so  repulsive  as  the  expression  of  his  face.    Coarsely 


TOWARDS   HOME.  527 

sensual  and  brutal,  they  were  rendered  worse  by  habits  of 
dissipation  and  debauch ;  and  in  the  filmy  eye  and  the  trem- 
ulous lip  might  be  read  the  signs  of  habitual  drunkenness. 
In  figure  he  was  large  and  most  powerfully  built,  and  if  not 
over-fleshy,  must  have  been  of  great  muscular  strength. 

"  Shoot  him,  Ned,"  he  cried,  after  a  few  minutes  of  close 
scrutiny ;  "  he  's  as  great  a  cripple  as  old  Joe  himself." 

"I  suppose,  your  honor,"  said  the  groom,  "there's 
nothing  else  to  be  done,  it's  in  the  back  it  is." 

"  I  don't  care  a  curse  where  it  is,"  said  the  other,  savagely ; 
"  I  only  know  when  a  horse  can't  go.  You  can  put  a  bullet 
in  him,  and  more 's  the  pity  all  other  useless  animals  are  not 
as  easily  disposed  of.  —  And  who  is  our  friend  here?  "  added 
he,  turning  and  approaching  where  I  stood. 

I  briefly  said  that  I  was  a  stranger  desirous  of  seeing  and 
speaking  with  Mr.  Curtis ;  that  my  business  was  one  of 
importance  not  less  to  myself  than  to  him ;  and  that  I  would 
feel  obliged  if  he  could  procure  me  the  opportunity  I  sought 
for. 

k'  If  you  talk  of  business,  and  important  business,"  said 
he,  sternly,  "you  ought  to  know,  if  you  haven't  heard  it 
already,  that  the  man  you  want  to  discuss  it  with  is  upwards 
of  a  hundred  years  of  age ;  that  he  is  a  doting  idiot ;  and 
that,  for  many  a  day,  the  only  one  who  has  given  any  orders 
here  now  stands  before  you." 

"  In  that  case,"  said  I,  courteously,  "I  am  equally  pre- 
pared to  address  myself  to  him.  Will  you  kindly  accord  me 
an  interview?  " 

"  Are  3rou  a  dun?  "  said  he,  rudely. 

"  Xo,"  said  I,  smiling  at  the  abruptness  of  the  demand. 

"  Are  you  a  tenant  in  arrear  of  his  rent?  or  wanting  an 
abatement?" 

"  Neither  one  nor  the  other." 

"  Are  you  sent  by  a  friend  with  a  hostile  message?  " 

"  No1  even  that,"  said  I,  with  impassive  gravity. 

"  Then,  what  the  devil  are  you?"  said  he,  rudely;  "  fori 
don't  recognize  you  as  one  of  my  friends  or  acquaintances." 

I  hesitated  for  a  moment  wdiat  reply  I  should  make  to  this 
coarsely  uttered  speech.  Had  I  reflected  a  little  longer,  it  is 
possible  that  good  sense  might  have  prevailed,  and  taught 


528  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

me  how  inopportune  was  the  time  for  such  reprisals ;  but  I 
was  stung  by  an  insult  offered  in  presence  of  many  others ; 
and  in  a  tone  of  angry  defiance  answered,  — 

"You  may  discover  to  your  cost,  sir,  that  my  right  to  be 
here  is  somewhat  better  than  your  own,  and  that  the  day 
is  not  very  distant  when  your  presence  in  this  domain  will 
be  more  surely  questioned  than  is  mine  now.  Is  that 
name  new  to  you?"  And  as  I  spoke  I  handed  him  my 
card,  whereupon,  with  my  name,  the  ancient  arms  of  my 
family  were  also  engraved.  A  livid  paleness  suddenly  spread 
over  his  features  as  he  read  the  words,  and  then  as  quickly 
his  face  became  purple  red. 

"  Do  you  mean,"  said  he,  in  a  voice  guttural  with  passion, 
"  do  you  mean  to  impose  upon  a  man  of  my  stamp  with  such 
stupid  balderdash  as  that?  And  do  you  fancy  that  such  a 
paltry  attempt  at  a  cheat  will  avail  you  here  ?  Now,  I  '11 
show  you  how  we  treat  such  pretensions  without  any  help 
from  lawyers.  Garvey,"  cried  he,  addressing  one  of  the 
grooms  who  stood  by,  laughing  heartily  at  his  master's  wit, 
"  Garvey,  go  in  and  rouse  the  gentlemen ;  tell  them  to  dress 
quickly  and  come  downstairs ;  for  I  've  got  sport  for  them. 
And  you,  Mick,  saddle  Ranty  for  me,  and  get  out  the  dogs. 
Now,  Mr.  Carew,  I  like  fair  play,  and  so  I'll  give  you 
fifteen  minutes  law.  Take  the  shortest  cut  you  can  out  of 
these  grounds ;  for,  by  the  rock  of  Cashel,  if  you  're  caught, 
I  would  n't  be  in  your  skin  for  a  trifle." 

A  regular  burst  of  savage  laughter  from  the  bystanders 
met  this  brutal  speech,  and  the  men  scattered  in  all  direc- 
tions to  obey  the  orders,  while  I,  overwhelmed  with  passion, 
stood  motionless  in  the  now  deserted  yard.  M'Clean  him- 
self had  entered  the  house,  and  it  was  only  when  a  sig- 
nal from  one  of  the  grooms  attracted  my  notice  that  I 
remarked  his  absence. 

"This  way — this  way,  sir,  and  don't  lose  a  second," 
said  the  man;  "take  that  path  outside  the  garden  wall, 
and  cross  the  nursery  beyond  it.  If  you  don't  make  haste, 
it's  all  over  with  you." 

"  He  would  n't  dare  —  " 

"  Would  n't  he? "  said  he,  stopping  me.  "  It 's  little  you 
know  him.  The  dogs  themselves  has  more  mercy  than 
himself  when  his  blood  is  up." 


TOWARDS  HOME.  529 

"Get  the  cob  ready  for  me,  Joe,"  cried  a  half-dressed 
man  from  one  of  the  upper  windows  of  the  house,  "  aud  a 
snaffle  bridle,  remember." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  was  the  quick  reply.  "  That 's  ould  Delany  of 
Shanestown,  aud  a  greater  devil  there  is  u't  from  this  to 
his  own  place.  Blood  and  ages,"  cried  he,  addressing  me, 
"won't  you  give  yourself  a  chance?  do  you  want  them  to 
tear  you  to  pieces  where  you  stand  ? " 

The  man's  looks  impressed  me  still  more  than  his  words ; 
and  though  I  scarcely  believed  it  possible  that  my  peril 
could  be  such  as  he  spoke  of,  the  terrified  faces  about  me 
struck  fear  into  my  heart. 

"  Would  men  stand  by,"  cried  I,  "  and  see  such  an  infa- 
mous cruelty?  " 

"  Arrah!  how  could  we  help  it?"  said  one,  stopping  me; 
"  and  if  you  won't  do  anything  for  yourself,  what  use  can 
we  be  ? " 

"  There,  be  off,  you,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,"  said  another, 
pushing  me  through  a  small  door  that  opened  into  a  shrub- 
bery;  "  down  that  lane  as  fast  as  you  can,  and  keep  to  the 
right  after  you  pass  the  fish-pond." 

"It  wouldn't  be  bad  to  swim  to  one  of  the  islands!" 
muttered  another ;  but  the  counsel  was  overruled  by  the 
rest. 

By  this  time,  the  contagion  of  terror  had  so  completely 
seized  upon  me  that  I  yielded  myself  to  the  impulse  of  the 
moment,  and,  taking  the  direction  they  pointed  out,  I  fled 
along  the  path  beneath  the  garden  wall  at  full  speed. 

In  the  unbroken  stillness  I  could  hear  nothing  but  the 
tramp  of  my  own  feet,  or  the  rustling  of  the  branches  as  I 
tore  through  them.  I  gained  at  last  the  open  fields,  and 
with  one  hurried  glance  behind  to  see  that  I  was  not  pur- 
sued, still  dashed  onwards.  The  young  cattle  started  off 
at  full  speed  as  they  saw  me,  and  the  snorting  horses 
galloped  wildly  here  and  there  as  I  went. 

Again,  beneath  the  shade  of  a  wood  I  would  have  halted 
to  repose  myself,  but  suddenly  a  sound  came  floating  along 
the  air,  which  swelled  louder  and  louder,  till  I  could  recog- 
nize in  it  the  deep,  hoarse  bay  of  dogs,  as  in  wild  chorus 
they  yelped  together;  and  high  above  all  could  be  heard  the 

34 


530  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

more  savage  notes  of  men's  voices  cheering  them  on  and 
encouraging  them.  With  the  mad  speed  of  terror,  I  now 
tied  onward ;  the  very  air  around  me  seeming  to  resound 
with  the  dreadful  cries  of  my  pursuers.  Now  tumbling 
headlong  over  the  tangled  roots,  now  dashing  recklessly 
forward  through  stony  watercourses  or  fissured  crevices  of 
ground,  I  ran  with  mad  impulse,  heedless  of  all  peril  but 
one.  At  some  moments  the  deafening  sounds  of  the  wild 
pack  seemed  close  about  me ;  at  others,  all  was  still  as  the 
grave  around. 

I  had  forgotten  every  direction  the  men  had  given  me, 
and  only  thought  of  pressing  onward  without  any  thought 
of  whither.  At  last  I  came  to  a  rapid  but  narrow  river, 
wdth  steep  and  rugged  banks  at  either  side.  To  place  this 
between  myself  and  my  pursuers  seemed  the  best  chance  of 
escape,  and  without  a  second's  hesitation  I  dashed  into  the 
stream.  Far  stronger  than  I  had  supposed,  the  current 
bore  me  down  a  considerable  distance,  and  it  was  not  till 
after  a  long  and  tremendous  effort  that  I  gained  the  bank. 
Just  as  I  had  reached  it,  the  wild  cry  of  the  dogs  again  met 
my  ears ;  and,  faint  and  dripping  as  I  was,  once  more  I 
took  to  speed. 

Through  dark  woods  and  waving  plains  of  tall  grass, 
over  deep  tillage  ground  and  through  the  yellow  corn,  I 
fled  like  one  bereft  of  reason,  —  the  terror  of  a  horrible  and 
inglorious  death  urging  me  on  to  efforts  that  my  strength 
seemed  incapable  of  making.  Cut  and  bleeding  in  many 
places,  my  limbs  were  at  last  yielding  to  fatigue,  when  I 
saw  at  a  short  distance  in  front  of  me  a  tall  but  dilapidated 
stone  wall.  With  one  last  effort  I  reached  this,  and,  climb- 
ing by  the  crevices,  gained  the  top.  But  scarcely  had  I 
gained  it  when  my  head  reeled,  my  senses  left  me,  and, 
overcome  by  sickness  and  exhaustion,  I  fell  headlong  to  the 
ground  beneath.  It  was  already  evening  when  I  came  to 
myself,  and  still  lay  there  stunned,  but  uninjured.  A  wild 
plain,  studded  over  with  yellow  furze  bushes,  lay  in  front, 
and  beyond  in  the  distance  I  could  see  the  straggling  huts 
of  a  small  village.  It  was  a  wild  and  dreary  scene ;  but 
the  soft  light  of  a  summer's  evening  beamed  calmly  over  it, 
and  the  silence  was  unbroken  around.     With  an   effort,  I 


/ 


. 


// / 


/•////< 


'/ 


/, 


Of   THE 

{   UNIVERSE 

oF       n 


TOWARDS  HOME.  531 

arose,  and,  though  weak  and  sorely  bruised,  found  that  I 
could  walk.  My  faculties  were  yet  so  confused  that  of  the 
late  events  I  could  remember  but  little  with  any  distinctness. 
At  times  I  fancied  I  had  been  actually  torn  and  worried  by 
savage  dogs ;  and  then  I  would  believe  that  the  whole  was 
but  a  wild  and  feverish  dream,  brought  on  by  intense 
anxiety  and  care.  My  tattered  and  ragged  clothes,  clotted 
over  with  blood,  confused,  but  did  not  aid,  my  memory ; 
and  thus  struggling  with  my  thoughts,  1  wandered  along, 
and,  as  night  was  falling,  reached  the  little  village  of 
Shanestown.  Directing  my  steps  towards  a  cabin  where 
I  perceived  a  light,  I  discovered  that  it  was  the  alehouse 
of  the  village.  Two  or  three  country  people  were  sitting 
smoking  on  a  bench  before  the  door,  who  arose  as  I  came 
forward,  half  in  curiosity,  half  in  respect;  and  as  I  was 
asking  them  in  what  quarter  I  might  find  a  lodging  for  the 
night,  the  landlord  came  out.  No  sooner  did  his  eyes  fall 
on  me  than  he  started  back  in  seeming  terror,  and,  after  a 
pause  of  a  few  seconds,  cried  out,  — 

"  Molly !  Molly  !  come  here  quick !  Who 's  that  standing 
there  ?  "  said  he,  as  he  pointed  with  his  finger  towards  me. 

"  The  heavens  be  about  us !  but  it 's  Mr.  Walter  Carew 
himself,"  said  the  woman,  crossing  herself. 

This  sudden  recognition  of  my  resemblance  to  my  father 
so  overcame  me  that  though  I  struggled  hard  for  speech, 
the  words  would  not  come;  and  I  stood  pale  and  gasping 
before  them. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  speak !  "  cried  the  man,  in  terror. 

I  heard  no  more;  faint,  agitated,  and  exhausted,  I  tot- 
tered towards  the  bank,  and  swooned  away. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

THE    PERILS    OF    EVIL. 

The  last  few  pages  I  mean  to  append  to  these  notices  of 
my  life  might  be,  perhaps,  equally  well  derived  from  the 
public  newspapers  of  the  time.  At  a  period  when  great 
events  were  occurring ;  when  the  conquering  armies  of 
France  marched  over  the  length  and  breadth  of  Europe,  — 
the  humble  historian  of  these  pages  was  able,  for  a  brief 
space,  to  engage  public  attention,  and  become  for  a  short 
season  the  notoriety  of  the  hour.  I  will  not  presume  so 
far  as  to  say  that  the  fame  to  which  I  attained  was  of  that 
kind  which  natters  most,  or  that  the  reputation  attaching  to 
me  was  above  reproach.  Still,  I  had  my  partisans  and  ad- 
herents, nay,  I  believe  I  might  even  aver,  my  friends  and 
well-wishers.  He  must,  perchance,  have  had  a  fortunate 
existence  who  can  say  more. 

Of  what  followed  after  the  event  detailed  in  my  last 
chapter  I  can  relate  nothing,  for  I  was  seized  with  shiver- 
ing and  other  signs  of  fever  that  same  night,  and  for 
several  weeks  my  life  was  despaired  of.  Even  when  the 
dangerous  period  passed  over,  my  convalescence  made  but 
little  progress.  For  me  there  were  none  of  those  aids  which 
so  powerfully  assist  the  return  to  health.  The  sympathy  of 
friends,  the  affections  of  family,  the  very  hope  of  once  more 
assuming  one's  place  at  hearth  and  board,  —  I  had  none  of 
these.  If  the  past  was  filled  with  trouble  and  suffering, 
the  future  was  a  bleak  expanse  that  offered  nothing  to 
speculate  on.  My  thoughts  turned  to  the  New  World  be- 
yond the  seas,  to  a  region  wherein  nothing  should  recall 
a  memory  of  the  bygone,  and  where  even  I  might  at  last 
forget  the  early  years  of  my  own  life.  There  were  not 
then,  as  now,  the  rapid  means  of  intercourse  between  this 
country  and  America ;  as  little,  too,  was  there  of  that  knowl- 


THE  PERILS   OF  EVIL.  533 

edge  of  the  great  continent  of  the  west  which  now  prevails. 
Men  talked  of  it  as  a  far-away  land  only  emerging  into 
civilization,  and  whose  vast  regions  were  still  untrodden 
and  unexplored.  Dreamy  visions  of  the  existence  men 
might  carve  out  for  themselves  in  such  a  scene  formed  the 
amusements  of  the  long  hours  of  my  solitary  sick  bed.  I 
fancied  myself  at  times  a  lone  settler  on  the  bank  of  some 
nameless  river,  and  at  other  moments  as  a  member  of 
some  Indian  tribe,  following  their  fortunes  to  the  chase  and 
to  the  battle-field,  and  dreaming  through  life  in  the  unevent- 
ful stillness  of  the  forest. 

In  part  from  the  effect  of  malady  itself,  in  part  from  this 
dreamy  state  of  mind,  I  sank  into  a  state  of  impassive 
lethargy  wherein  nothing  pleased  or  displeased  me.  Worse 
than  actual  despondency,  a  sense  of  indifference  had  settled 
down  on  all  my  feelings ;  and  if  I  could  have  asked  a  boon, 
it  would  have  been  to  have  been  left  utterly  alone.  To  re- 
ply when  spoken  to  became  irksome ;  even  to  listen  was  a 
painful  exertion  to  me.  Looking  back  now  on  this  period, 
it  seems  to  me  that  such  intervals  of  apathetic  repose  are 
often  inserted  in  the  lives  of  men  of  more  than  ordinary 
activity,  acting  as  sleep  does  in  our  habitual  existence,  and 
serving  to  rest  and  recruit  faculties  overcharged  and  over- 
worked. 

I  was  in  a  very  humble  lodging  in  a  very  humble  street, 
still  attended  by  doctors,  and  besieged  by  lawyers  and 
solicitors,  who  came  and  went,  held  consultations,  ques- 
tioned and  cross-questioned  me  with  a  greedy  avidity  on 
themes  in  which  my  own  interest  had  long  ceased,  and 
which  I  was  gradually  learning  to  think  of  with  absolute 
aversion. 

Ysaffich,  whose  confidence  in  our  success  rose  higher  every 
day.  appeared  from  time  to  time  to  see  me ;  but  his  visits 
were  generally  hurried  ones,  as  he  was  constantly  on  the 
road,  travelling  hither  and  thither,  exploring  registries  here, 
and  certificates  there,  and  fortifying  our  case  by  every  pos- 
sible means  he  could  think  of.  His  energy  was  untiring; 
and  in  the  shrewd  devices  of  his  quick  intelligence,  even 
the  long-practised  acuteuess  of  the  lawyers  discovered  great 
resources. 


534  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

Paragraphs  of  a  half  mysterious  kind  in  the  public  news- 
papers announced  to  the  world  that  a  most  remarkable  case 
might  ere  long  transpire,  and  a  claim  be  preferred  which 
should  threaten  the  possession  of  one  of  the  largest  estates 
in  a  county  adjacent  to  the  metropolis.  To  these  succeeded 
others,  more  openly  expressed,  in  which  it  was  announced 
that  some  of  the  most  distinguished  members  of  the  inner 
bar  had  received  retainers  for  a  cause  that  would  soon 
astonish  the  world,  wherein  the  plaintiff  was  represented  to 
be  the  son  and  heir  of  one  who  once  had  figured  most 
conspicuously  in  the  fashionable  and  political  circles  of 
Dublin. 

As  the  time  approached  for  bringing  the  case  to  trial  it 
was  judged  expedient  that  I  should  be  provided  with  lodgings 
in  a  more  fashionable  quarter  of  the  town,  be  seen  abroad 
in  places  of  public  resort,  and,  in  fact,  a  certain  eclat  be 
imparted  to  my  presence,  which  should  enlist,  so  far  as  might 
be,  popular  feeling  in  my  favor.  The  chief  adviser  and 
leader  of  my  case  was  a  lawyer  of  great  repute  in  the  Irish 
bar  of  those  days,  —  a  certain  Samuel  Hanchett,  —  one  of 
those  men  who  owe  their  success  in  life  less  to  actual  learn- 
ing than  to  the  possession  of  immense  natural  acuteness, 
great  resources  in  difficulty,  and  a  vast  acquaintance  with  all 
the  arts  of  their  fellow-men.  There  had  been,  I  believe, 
considerable  difficulty  in  securing  his  services  originally  in 
our  behalf.  It  was  reported  that  he  disliked  such  cases ; 
that  they  were  not  what  "suited  him."  He  made  various 
objections  when  first  addressed,  and  threw  every  discourage- 
ment when  the  cause  was  submitted  for  his  opinion.  He 
asked  for  evidence  that  was  not  to  be  obtained,  and  proofs 
that  were  not  forthcoming.  The  merest  accident  —  if  I  am 
justified  in  calling  such  what  was  to  be  followed  by  conse- 
quences so  important  to  myself  —  overruled  these  objections 
on  his  part.  It  chanced  that  in  one  of  my  solitary  walks  on 
a  Sunday  afternoon  I  happened  to  find  myself  at  the  bank 
of  a  little  stream  near  Milltown,  with  an  elderly  man  who 
seemed  to  have  some  apprehensions  about  crossing  on  the 
slippery  and  uncertain  stepping-stones  by  which  the  passage 
was  forded.  Perceiving  his  difficulty,  I  tendered  my  assist- 
ance to  him  at  once,  which  he  accepted.     On  arriving  at  the 


THE   PERILS  OF  EVIL.  535 

opposite  bank,  and  finding  that  our  roads  led  in  the  same 
direction,  we  began  to  converse  together,  during  which  my 
accidental  pronunciation  of  a  word  with  a  slightly  foreign 
accent  attracted  his  notice.  To  a  question  on  his  part,  I 
mentioned  that  a  great  part  of  my  life  had  been  passed 
abroad ;  and  amongst  the  places  to  which  I  alluded  was 
Reichenau.  He  asked  me  in  what  year  I  had  been  there, 
anil  inquired  if  by  any  chance  I  had  ever  heard  of  a  certain 
school  there  in  which  it  was  said  the  son  of  the  late  Duke  of 
Orleans  had  been  a  teacher. 

"You  are  speaking  of  Monsieur  Jost,  my  old  master?" 
said  I,  warmed  up  by  even  this  passing  remembrance  of 
happier  days. 

"  Will  you  pardon  the  liberty  I  am  about  to  take,"  said 
he,  with  some  earnestness,  "  and  allow  me  to  ask,  with 
whom  I  have  the  honor  to  speak  ?  " 

"  My  name  is  Jasper  Carew,  sir,"  said  I,  with  a  degree  of 
stern  pride  a  man  feels  in  asserting  a  claim  that  he  knows 
may  be  contested. 

"  Jasper  Carew!  "  repeated  he,  slowly,  while  he  stood  still 
and  stared  steadfastly  at  me  —  "Jasper  Carew!  You  are 
then  the  claimant  to  the  estates  of  Castle  Carew  and  Crone 
Lofty  in  Wicklow?" 

"  The  property  of  my  late  father,"  said  I,  assentingly. 

"  What  a  singular  coincidence  should  have  brought  us 
together,"  said  he,  after  a  pause.  "  Do  you  know,  sir,  that 
when  you  overtook  me  half  an  hour  ago,  and  saw  me  stand- 
ing on  the  side  of  the  stream  there,  I  was  less  occupied  in 
thinking  how  I  should  cross  it  than  how  I  could  reconcile 
certain  strange  statements  which  had  been  made  to  me 
respecting  your  claim.  I  am  Mr.  Hanchett,  sir,  the  counsel 
to  whom  your  case  has  been  submitted." 

"  It  is  indeed  a  curious  accident  that  has  brought  us  thus 
in  contact,"  exclaimed  I,  in  surprise. 

"  I  should  like  to  give  it  another  name,  young  gentleman," 
said  he,  thoughtfully,  while  he  walked  along  at  my  side  for 
some  moments  in  silence.  "Has  it  ever  been  explained  to 
you,  Mr.  Carew,"  said  he,  gravely,  "  what  dangers  attend 
such  a  course  of  proceeding  as  you  are  now  engaged  in? 
How  necessarily  you  must  be  prepared  to  give  in  your  adhe- 


536  SIR   JASPER  CAREW. 

sion  to  many  things  your  advisers  deem  essential,  and  of 
which  you  can  have  no  cognizance  personally,  — in  a  word, 
how  frequently  you  will  be  forced  into  a  responsibility  which 
you  never  contemplated  or  anticipated  ?  Have  all  these  cir- 
cumstances been  placed  fairly  and  clearly  before  you?" 

"  Never!  "  replied  I. 

"  Then  suffer  me  to  endeavor,  in  a  very  few  words,  to  show 
you  some  at  least  of  the  perils  I  allude  to."  In  a  few  short 
and  graphic  sentences  he  stated  my  case,  with  all  its  favor- 
able points  forcibly  and  well  delineated.  He  then  exhibited 
its  various  weaknesses  and  deficiencies,  the  assumptions  for 
which  no  proofs  were  forthcoming,  the  positions  which  were 
taken  without  power  to  maintain  them.  "To  give  the 
required  coherence  and  consistency  to  these,  your  advisers 
will  of  course  take  all  due  precaution  ;  but  they  will  require 
aid  also  from  you.  You  will  be  asked  for  information  you 
have  no  means  of  obtaining,  for  details  you  cannot  supply. 
A  lawsuit  is  like  a  chase  :  the  ardor  of  pursuit  deadens  every 
sense  of  peril,  and  in  the  desire  to  win  you  become  reckless 
for  the  cost.  I  perceive,"  said  he,  "  that  you  demur  to  some 
of  this ;  but  remember  that  as  yet  you  have  not  entered  the 
field,  that  you  have  only  viewed  the  sport  from  afar,  and  its 
passions  of  hope  and  fear  are  all  untasted  by  you !  " 

"It  may  be  as  you  say,"  said  I,  "and  that  hereafter  I 
may  seem  to  feel  differently  ;  but  for  the  present  I  can 
promise  you  that  to  secure  a  verdict  in  my  favor,  not  only 
would  I  not  strain  any  point  myself,  but  I  would  not  con- 
descend to  accept  the  benefit  of  such  a  sacrifice  from  an- 
other. I  believe  —  I  have  strong  reasons  to  believe  —  that  I 
am  asserting  a  rightful  claim ;  the  arguments  that  shall  be 
sufficient  to  convince  others  that  I  am  wrong  will,  doubt- 
less, be  strong  enough  to  satisfy  me." 

He  had  fixed  his  eyes  steadily  on  me  while  I  was  speaking 
these  words,  and  I  could  easily  perceive  that  the  impression 
they  produced  on  him  was  favorable.  He  then  led  me  on  to 
speak  of  my  life  and  its  vicissitudes,  and  I  could  detect  in 
many  of  his  questions  that  he  had  formed  erroneous  notions 
as  to  various  parts  of  my  story.  I  cannot  attempt  to  ex- 
plain why  it  was  so ;  but  the  fact  unquestionably  was,  that 
I  opened  my  heart   more  freely  and   unreservedly  to   this 


THE  PERILS   OF  EVIL.  537 

stranger  than  I  had  ever  clone  to  any  of  those  with  whom  I 
had  before  conversed;  and  when  we  parted  at  length,  it  was 
like  old  friends. 

The  accident  of  our  meeting  was  not  known  to  others, 
and  there  was  considerable  astonishment  excited  when  it 
was  heard  that  Hanchett,  who  had  hitherto  shown  no  dis- 
position to  engage  in  the  cause,  now  accepted  the  brief  and 
exhibited  the  warmest  anxiety  for  success.  His  acute  intel- 
ligence quickly  detected  many  things  which  had  been  passed 
over  as  immaterial,  and  by  his  activity  various  channels  of 
information  were  opened  which  others  had  not  thought  of. 
In  these  details  Ysaffich  came  more  than  once  before  him ; 
and  it  was  remarkable  with  what  shrewdness  he  read  the 
man's  nature,  bold,  resolute,  and  unscrupulous  as  it  was. 
Between  the  two,  the  feeling  of  distrust  rapidly  ripened  into 
open  hatred,  each  not  hesitating  to  accuse  the  other  of 
treachery ;  and  thus  was  a  new  element  of  difficulty  added 
to  a  case  whose  complications  were  already  more  than 
enough. 

My  own  position  at  this  period  was  embarrassing  in  the 
extreme.  Hanchett  frequently  invited  me  to  his  house,  and 
presented  me  freely  to  his  friends ;  while  Ysaffich  continued 
to  suggest  doubts  of  his  good  faith  on  every  occasion,  and 
by  a  hundred  petty  slights  showed  his  implacable  enmity 
towards  him.  Day  after  day  this  breach  grew  wider  and 
wider,  every  effort  of  the  one  being  sure  to  excite  the  ani- 
mosity and  opposition  of  the  other.  Ysaffich,  too,  far  from 
endeavoring  to  repress  this  spirit  on  his  part,  seemed  to  fos- 
ter and  encourage  it,  sneering  at  the  old  lawyer's  caution 
and  reserve,  and  even  insinuating  against  him  darker  and 
more  treacherous  intentions. 

"To  what  end, "said  he,  at  length,  one  morning  when  our 
discussion  had  become  unusually  warm  and  animated,  "  to 
what  end  the  inquiries  to  winch  this  learned  adviser  of  yours 
would  push  us:  he  wants  to  discover  the  Countess  of  (.la- 
briac  and  Raper.  Why,  bethink  you,  my  worthy  friend, 
that  these  are  the  very  people  we  hope  never  to  hear  more 
of ;  that  if  by  any  mischance  they  could  possibly  be  forth- 
coming, our  whole  scheme  is  blown  up  at  once.  We  have 
now  enough,  or  we  shall   have  enough  by  the  end   of  the 


538  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

month,  to  go  to  a  jury.  There  is  not  a  document  nor  a 
paper  that  will  not,  in  some  form  or  other,  be  supplied.  Let 
us  stand  or  fall  by  that  issue ;  but,  of  all  things,  let  us  not 
protract  the  campaign  till  the  arrival  of  the  forces  that  shall 
overwhelm  us.  If  this  be  your  policy,  Master  Gervois, 
speak  it  out  freely,  and  let  us  be  frank  with  each  other." 

There  was  a  tone  of  bold  defiance  in  this  speech  that 
startled  me ;  but  the  way  in  which  he  addressed  me,  as  Ger- 
vois, a  name  he  had  never  called  me  by  for  several  months, 
in  even  our  closest  intimacy,  was  like  a  declaration  of  open 
hostility. 

"  I  claim  to  be  called  Jasper  Carew,"  said  I,  calmly  and 
slowly;  "I  will  accept  no  other  designation  from  you  nor 
any  one." 

"  You  have  learned  your  part  admirably,"  said  he,  with  a 
sneer;  "but  remember  that  I  am  myself  the  prompter;  so 
pray  reserve  the  triumphs  of  your  art  for  the  public !  " 

"  Anatole,"  said  I,  addressing  him  with  an  emotion  I 
could  not  repress,  "  I  desire  to  be  frank  and  candid  with 
you.  This  name  of  Jasper  Carew  I  believe  firmly  to  be 
mine." 

A  burst  of  laughter,  insulting  to  the  last  degree,  stopped 
me  in  my  speech. 

"  Why,  Gervois,  this  is  madness,  my  worthy  fellow.  Just 
bethink  you  of  how  this  plot  originated ;  who  suggested,  who 
carried  it  on,  —  ay,  and  where  it  stands  at  this  very  moment. 
That  you  yourself  are  as  nothing  in  it;  the  breath  that 
made  can  still  unmake  you ;  and  that  I  have  but  to  declare 
you  an  impostor  and  a  cheat,  —  hard  words,  but  you  will 
have  them,  —  and  the  law  will  deal  with  you  as  it  knows  how 
to  deal  with  those  who  trade  on  false  pretences.  Yours  be 
the  blame  if  I  be  pushed  to  such  reprisals  !  " 

"And  what  if  I  defied  you,  Count  Ysaffich?"  said  I, 
boldly. 

"  If  you  but  dared  to  do  it!  "  said  he,  with  a  menace  of 
his  clenched  hand. 

"Now  listen  to  me  calmly,"  said  I;  "and  there  is  the 
more  need  of  calm,  since,  possibly,  these  are  the  very  last 
words  that  shall  ever  pass  between  us.  My  claim  can 
neither  be  aided  nor  opposed  by  you." 


THE   PERILS  OF  EVIL.  539 

"Is  the  fellow  mad?"  exclaimed  he,  staring  -wildly  at 
me. 

"  I  am  in  my  calm  and  sober  senses,"  replied  I,  quietly. 

"Then  what  say  you  to  this  bond?"  said  he,  taking  a 
paper  from  his  pocket-book.  "  Is  this  a  written  promise 
that  if  you  succeed  to  the  fortune  and  estates  of  the  late 
Walter  Carew,  you  will  pay  me,  Count  Anatole  Ysaffich,  one 
hundred  thousand  pounds?  " 

"  I  own  every  word  of  it,"  said  I. 

-•And  for  what  service  is  this  the  recompense?  Answer 
me  that." 

"  That  I  am  indebted  to  you  for  having  opened  to  me  the 
path  by  which  my  right  was  to  be  established." 

"  Say  rather  that  by  me  was  the  fraud  of  a  false  name, 
and  birth,  and  rank  first  suggested ;  that  from  Gervois  the 
courier  I  created  you  Carew  the  gentleman.  The  whole 
scheme  was  and  is  my  own.     You  are  as  nothing  in  it." 

Stupefied,  almost  stunned,  by  the  outrageous  insult  of 
his  words,  I  did  not  speak,  and  he  went  on,  — 

"  But  you  have  not  taken  me  unawares.  I  was  not  with- 
out my  suspicion  that  such  an  incident  as  this  might  arise. 
I  foresaw  at  least  its  possibility,  and  was  prepared  for  it. 
Be  advised,  then,  in  time,  since  if  your  foot  was  on  the  very 
threshold  of  that  door  you  hope  to  call  your  own,  the  power 
lies  with  me  to  drag  you  back  again  and  proclaim  you  to  all 
the  world  a  swindler." 

My  passion  boiled  over  at  the  word,  and  I  sprung  towards 
him,  I  know  not  with  what  thoughts  of  vengeance.  He 
darted  back  suddenly,  and  gained  the  door. 

"  If  you  had  dared,"  said  he,  with  a  savage  grin,  "  }Tou  had 
been  a  corpse  on  that  floor  the  minute  after." 

The  shining  blade  of  a  stiletto  glanced  within  his  waist- 
coat as  he  spoke.  The  next  moment  he  had  descended  the 
stairs,  and  was  gone. 

I  will  not  speak  of  the  suffering  this  scene  cost  me,  — 
a  misery,  I  am  free  to  declare,  less  proceeding  from  my 
dread  of  his  resentment  than  from  the  thought  that  one  of 
the  very  few  with  whom  I  had  ever  lived  on  terms  approach- 
ing friendship  had  now  become  a  declared  and  bitter  enemy. 
Oh   for  the   hollowness  of   such  attachments !     The   bonds 


540  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

which  bind  men  to  evil  are  the  deadliest  snares  that  beset 
us ;  and  thus  the  very  qualities  which  seem  our  best  and 
purest,  are  among  the  weakest  and  the  worst  of  our  depraved 
natures. 

To  add  to  my  discomfiture,  Hanchett  was  obliged  to  go 
over  to  London  in  some  case  before  the  House  of  Lords, 
and  my  cause  was  intrusted  to  the  second  counsel,  one  with 
whom  I  had  little  intercourse,  and  few  opportunities  of 
knowing.  Ysaflich's  defection,  too,  threw  a  great  gloom 
over  all  rny  supporters.  His  readiness  in  every  difficulty 
was  not  less  remarkable  than  his  unwearied  and  untiring 
energy.  He  was,  in  fact,  the  bond  of  union  between  all 
the  parties,  stimulating,  encouraging,  and  cheering  them  on. 
Even  they  who  were  least  disposed  towards  him  personally, 
avowed  that  his  loss  was  irreparable ;  and  some,  taking  a 
still  graver  view  of  the  matter,  owned  their  fears  that  he 
might  seek  service  with  the  enemy. 

I  cannot  tell  the  relief  I  experienced  on  hearing  that  he  had 
sailed  from  Ireland  the  very  night  of  our  quarrel ;  and,  from 
the  observations  he  had  dropped,  it  was  believed  with  the 
intention  of  going  abroad. 

As  the  day  fixed  for  the  trial  drew  nigh,  public  curiosity 
rose  to  the  very  highest  degree.  The  real  nature  of  the 
claim  to  be  set  up  was  no  longer  a  secret,  and  the  case 
became  the  town  talk  of  every  club  and  society  of  the 
capital.  Curtis  had  long  ceased  to  be  popular  with  any 
party.  His  dissolute  life  had  thrown  a  disrepute  upon  those 
who  sided  with  him ;  and  the  newspapers,  almost  without  an 
exception,  inclined  towards  my  side.  There  is,  perhaps, 
something  too  that  savors  of  generosity  in  such  cases,  and 
disposes  many  to  favor  what  they  feel  to  be  the  weaker 
party.  I  am  sure  I  had  reason  to  experience  much  of  this 
kind  of  sympathy,  nor  do  I  think  of  it  even  now  without 
gratitude. 

Early  as  it  was  when  I  prepared  to  leave  my  hotel,  I 
found  a  considerable  crowd  had  assembled  in  the  street 
without,  curious  to  see  one  whose  story  had  attracted  so 
much  popular  notice.  They  were  mostly  of  the  lower 
classes,  but  I  observed  that  a  knot  of  gentlemen  had  gath- 
ered on  the  steps  of  an  adjoining  door,  and  were  eagerly 


THE  PERILS  OF  EVIL.  541 

watching  for  my  appearance.  As  the  window  of  my  room 
was  almost  directly  over  their  heads,  and  lay  open,  I  could 
hear  the  conversation  which  passed  between  them.  Shall 
I  own  that  the  words  I  overheard  set  my  heart  a  beating 
violently? 

"•You  knew  Carew  intimately,  Parsons?"  asked  one. 

""Watty!  to  be  sure  I  did.  We  were  class-fellows  at 
school  and  at  college." 

"  And  liked  him,  I  have  heard  you  say  ?  " 

"  Extremely.  There  was  no  better  fellow  to  be  found.  He 
had  his  weaknesses  like  the  rest  of  us ;  but  he  was  a  true- 
hearted,  generous  friend,  and  a  resolute  enemy  also." 

"Were  you  acquainted  with  his  wife,  Ned?"  asked 
another. 

"  I  Avas  presented  to  her  the  day  he  brought  her  over," 
replied  he;  "we  all  lunched  with  him  at  the  hotel,  but  I 
never  saw  her  after.  The  fact  was,  Watty  made  a  foolish 
match,  and  never  was  the  same  man  to  his  old  friends  after. 
Perhaps  we  were  as  much  in  fault  as  he  was ;  at  all  events, 
except  MacNaghten  and  a  few  who  were  very  intimate  with 
him,  all  fell  off,  and  Carew,  who  was  a  haughty  fellow,  drew 
back  from  us,  and  left  the  breach  still  wider." 

"And  what's  your  opinion  of  this  claim?"  asked  an- 
other, who  had  not  spoken  before. 

"That  I'd  not  give  sixpence  for  the  chance  of  its  suc- 
cess," said  he,  laughingly.  "Why,  everybody  knows  that 
no  trace  of  any  document  establishing  Carew's  marriage 
ciMild  be  found  after  his  death.  Some  went  so  far  as  to  say 
that  there  never  had  been  a  marriage  at  all ;  and  as  to  the 
child,  Dan  MacNaghten  told  me  years  ago  that  the  boy  was 
killed  in  some  street  skirmish  in  Paris,  —  so  that,  taking  all 
the  doubts  and  difficulties  together,  and  bearing  in  mind 
that  old  Joe  Curtis  has  a  strong  purse  and  is  in  possession, 
is  there  any  man  with  common  sense  to  guide  him  would 
think  the  contest  worth  a  trial?  " 

••  I  Live  you  seen  this  young  fellow  yet?" 

"  No;  and  I  am  rather  curious  to  have  a  look  at  him,  for 
there  were  strong  family  traits  about  the,  Carews." 

As  I  heard  these  hist  words,  I  walked  boldly  out  upon  the 
halcony  as  if  to  examine  the  state  of  the  weather.     There 


542  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

was  a  slight  murmur  of  voices  heard  beneath  as  I  came 
forward,  and  one  speaker  exclaimed,  "  Indeed ! "  to  which 
Parsons  quickly  replied,  — 

"Positively  astounding!  It  is  not  only  that  he  has 
Carew's  features,  but  the  carriage  of  the  head  and  a  cer- 
tain half  supercilious  look  are  exactly  his !  " 

The  words  sent  a  thrill  of  hope  through  me,  more  than 
enough  to  recompense  me  for  the  pain  his  former  speech  had 
inflicted ;  and  as  I  left  the  window,  I  felt  a  degree  of  con- 
fidence in  the  future  that  never  entirely  deserted  me  after. 


CHAPTER   XLIX. 

THE    FIRST    DAY. 

I  can  more  easily  imagine  a  man  being  able  to  preserve  the 
memory  of  all  his  sensations  during  some  tremendous  opera- 
tion of  surgery  than  to  recall  the  varied  tortures  of  his  mind 
in  the  progress  of  a  long  and  eventful  trial.  Certain  inci- 
dents will  impress  themselves  more  powerfully  than  others, 
not  always  those  of  the  deepest  importance,  —  far  from  it; 
the  veriest  trifles  —  a  stern  look  of  the  presiding  judge,  a 
murmur  in  the  court  —  will  live  in  the  recollection  for  long 
years  after  the  great  events  of  the  scene ;  and  a  casual 
glance,  a  half-uttered  word,  become  texts  of  sorrow  for 
many  a  day  to  come. 

I  could  myself  be  better  able  to  record  my  sensations 
throughout  a  long  fever  than  tell  of  the  emotions  which  I 
suffered  in  the  three  days  of  that  trial.  I  awake  occasion- 
ally from  a  dream  full  of  every  circumstance  all  sharply 
defined,  clear,  and  distinct.  My  throbbing  temples  and 
moist  brow  evidence  the  agonies  I  have  gone  through ;  my 
nerves  still  tingle  with  the  torture;  but  with  the  first  mo- 
ments of  wakefulness  the  memory  is  gone !  —  the  sense  of 
pain  alone  remains ;  but  the  cause  fades  away  in  dim  indis- 
tinctness, and  my  heart  throbs  with  gratitude  at  last  to  know 
it  was  but  a  dream,  and  has  passed  away. 

But  there  are  days,  too,  when  all  these  memories  are 
revived;  and  I  could  recount,  even  to  the  slightest  circum- 
stance, the  whole  progress  of  the  case,  from  the  moment 
when  a  doorkeeper  drew  aside  a  heavy  curtain  to  let  me 
pass  into  the  court,  to  the  dreadful  instant  when —  But 
I  cannot  go  on;  already  are  images  and  forms  crowding 
around  me.  To  continue  this  theme  would  be  to  call  up 
spirits  of  torture  to  the  bedside,  or  the  lonely  chamber 
where,  friendless  and  solitary,  I  sit  as  I  write  these  lines. 


544  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

I  owe  it  to  him  whose  patience  and  sympathy  may  have 
carried  him  so  far  as  my  listener,  to  complete  this  much  of 
the  story  of  my  life ;  happily  a  few  words  will  now  suffice 
to  do  so. 

A  newspaper  of  "Old  Dublin,"  a  great  authority  in  those 
days,  the  "  Morning  Advertiser,"  informed  its  readers  on  a 
certain  day  of  February  that  the  interesting  events  of  a 
recent  trial  should  be  its  apology  for  any  deficiency  in  its 
attention  to  foreign  news,  or  even  the  domestic  occurrences 
of  the  country,  since  the  editor  could  not  but  participate  in 
the  intense  anxiety  felt  by  all  classes  of  his  fellow-citizens 
in  the  progress  of  one  of  the  most  remarkable  cases  ever 
submitted  before  a  jury. 

After  a  brief  announcement  of  the  trial,  he  proceeds : 

"  Mr.  Foxley  opened  the  plaintiff's  case,  in  the  absence  of  Ser- 
jeant Hanchett;  and  certainly  even  the  distinguished  leader  of 
the  Western  Circuit  never  exceeded  in  clearness,  accuracy,  or 
close  reasoning  the  admirable  statement  then  delivered,  —  a  state- 
ment which,  while  supported  by  a  vast  variety  of  well-known 
incidents,  may  yet  vie  with  romance  for  the  strangeness  of  the 
events  it  records. 

"  Probably,  with  a  view  of  enlisting  public  sympathy  in  his 
client's  behalf,  not  impossibly  also  to  give  a  semblance  of  con- 
sistency to  a  narrative  wherein  any  individual  incident  might  have 
startled  credulity,  the  learned  counsel  gave  a  brief  history  of  the 
claimant  from  his  birth ;  and  certainly  a  stranger  tale  it  would 
be  hard  to  conceive.  Following  all  the  vicissitudes  of  fortune, 
fighting  to-day  in  the  ranks  of  the  revolutionists  in  Paris,  we  find 
him  to-morrow  the  bearer  of  important  despatches  from  crowned 
heads  to  the  members  of  the  exiled  family  of  France.  Ever 
active,  ever  employed,  and  ever  faithful  to  his  trust,  this  extra- 
ordinary youth  became  mixed  up  with  great  events,  and  conver- 
sant with  great  people  everywhere.  If  a  consciousness  that  he 
was  a  man  of  birth,  and  with  just  claims  to  station  and  property, 
often  sustained  him  in  moments  of  difficulty,  there  were  also 
times  when  this  thought  suggested  his  very  saddest  reflections. 
He  saw  himself  poor,  and  almost  unfriended ;  he  knew  the  scarcely 
passably  barriers  the  law  erects  against  all  pretenders,  whatever 
the  justice  of  their  demands ;  he  was  aware  that  his  adversary 
would  have  all  the  benefit  which  vast  resources  and  great  wealth 
can  command.  No  wonder,  then,  if  he  felt  faint-hearted  and 
dispirited  !  Another  and  a  very  different  train  of  reasoning  may, 
possibly,  have  also  had  its  influence  on  his  mind. 


THE   FIRST  DAY.  545 

"This  boy  grew  up  to  manhood  in  the  midst  of  all  the  startling 
theories  of  the  French  Revolution.  He  had  imbibed  the  doctrines 
of  equality  and  universal  brotherhood ;  he  had  been  taught  that  a 
state  was  a  family,  and  its  population  were  the  children,  amongst 
whom  no  inequality  of  condition  should  prevail.  To  sue  for  the 
restitution  of  his  own  was,  then,  but  a  sorry  recognition  of  the 
principles  he  professed.  The  society  of  the  time  enjoined  the 
theory  that  property  was  a  mere  usurpation ;  and  I  say  it  is  by 
no  means  improbable  that,  educated  in  such  opinions,  he  should 
have  deemed  the  prosecution  of  such  a  suit  a  direct  falsification 
of  his  professions.     The  world,  however,  changed. 

"  After  the  Revolution  came  the  reaction  of  order.  To  the 
guillotine  succeeded  the  court-martial ;  then  the  Consulate,  then 
the  Empire.  All  the  external  forms  of  society  underwent  a  less 
change  than  did  the  very  uature  of  men  themselves. 

"  Wearied  of  anarchy,  they  sought  the  repose  of  a  despotism. 
With  monarchy,  too,  came  back  all  the  illusions  of  pomp  and 
splendor,  all  the  tastes  that  wealth  fosters  and  wealth  alone  con- 
fers. Carew,  who  had  never  bewailed  his  condition  when  a  '  sans- 
culottes,' now  saw  himself  degraded  in  the  midst  of  the  new 
movement.  He  knew  that  he  had  been  born  to  fortune  and  high 
estate.  He  had  heard  of  the  vast  domains  of  his  ancestry,  from 
his  cradle.  He  had  got  off  by  heart  the  names  of  townlands  and 
baronies  that  all  belonged  to  his  family ;  and  though,  at  the  time 
he  learned  the  lesson,  the  more  stern  teaching  of  democracy  in- 
stilled the  maxim  that  <  all  property  was  a  wrong,'  yet  now 
another  impression  had  gained  currency  in  the  world,  and  he  saw 
that  even  for  the  purposes  of  public  utility,  and  the  benefit  of 
society,  a  man  was  powerless  who  was  poor. 

"  Alas,  however,  for  his  prospects  !  every  document,  every  letter, 
every  scrap  of  writing  that  could  have  authenticated  his  claim 
was  irone.  Of  the  very  nature  of  these  papers  he  scarcely  retains 
a  recollection  himself ;  he  only  knows  that  Madame  de  Gabriac, 
whose  name  I  have  already  introduced  to  your  notice,  deemed 
them  all-sufficient,  if  only  backed  by  one  essential  document,  — 
the  certificate  of  his  father's  marriage  with  his  mother.  To 
obtain  this  had  been  the  great  object  of  her  whole  life. 

"  With  a  heroic  devotion  to  the  cause  of  her  friend's  orphan 
child,  she  had  travelled  over  Europe  in  every  direction,  and  dup- 
ing times  of  the  greatest  peril  and  disturbance.  Accompanied  by 
one  trusty  companion,  Mr.  Raper,  she  had  never  wearied  in  her 
pursuit. 

"  Probably,  if  the  occasion  permitted,  the  story  I  could  tell  of 
her  efforts  in  this  cans.'  would  surprise  you  not  less  than  that  of 
my  client  himself.  Enough  that  I  say  that  she  stooped  to  pov- 
35 


5±6  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

erty  and  privation  of  the  very  severest  kind ;  she  toiled,  and 
labored,  and  suffered  for  years  long ;  and,  when  having  exhausted 
every  resource  the  Old  World  seemed  to  offer  to  her  search, 
she  set  out  for  the  New !  Since  that  she  has  not  been  heard  of. 
The  solicitors  with  whom  she  had  corresponded  have  long  since 
ceased  to  receive  tidings  of  her.  The  belief  in  her  death  was 
so  complete  that  her  father,  a  well-known  citizen  of  Dublin, 
who  died  two  years  back,  bequeathed  his  vast  fortune  to  vari 
ous  charitable  institutions,  alleging  his  childless  condition  as  the 
cause. 

"  I  have  told  you  how,  originally,  my  client,  then  a  mere  boy, 
became  separated  from  her  he  had  ever  regarded  as  his  mother ; 
I  have  traced  him  through  some,  but  far  from  the  whole,  of  the 
strange  incidents  of  his  eventful  career ;  and  it  now  only  remains 
that  I  should  speak  of  the  extraordinary  accident  by  which  he 
came  upon  the  clew  to  his  long  sought-for,  long  despaired-of, 
inheritance. 

"  A  short  statement  will  suffice  here,  since  the  witnesses  I  mean 
to  call  before  you  will  amply  elucidate  this  part  of  my  case.  It 
was  while  travelling  with  despatches  to  the  North  of  Europe  my 
client  formed  acquaintance  with  a  certain  Count  Ysaffich,  at  that 
time  himself  employed  in  the  diplomatic  service ;  and  though  at 
the  period  a  warm  friendship  grew  up  between  them,  it  was  not 
till  after  the  lapse  of  many  years  that  the  Count  came  to  know 
that  a  large  mass  of  papers  —  copies  of  documents  drawn  out  by 
Raper,  and  which  had  come  into  the  Count's  hands  in  a  manner 
I  shall  relate  to  you  —  actually  bore  reference  to  his  former  ac- 
quaintance, —  the  casual  intimate  of  a  journey. 

"  These  two  men,  thrown  together  by  one  of  the  most  extraordi- 
nary chances  of  fortune,  sit  down  to  recount  their  lives  to  each 
other.  Beside  the  fire  of  an  humble  chalet,  in  a  forest,  Carew 
hears  again  the  story  he  had  once  listened  to  in  his  infancy ;  the 
very  tale  his  dear  mother  had  repeated  to  him  in  the  midst  of  the 
Alps,  he  now  hears  from  the  lips  of  one  almost  a  stranger.  Names 
once  familiar,  but  long  forgotten,  come  back  to  him.  The  very 
sounds  thrilled  through  his  heart  like  as  the  notes  of  the  Swiss 
melody  awaken  in  the  far-away  wanderer  thoughts  of  home  and 
fatherland.  In  an  instant  he  throws  off  the  apathy  of  his  former 
life,  he  ceases  to  be  the  sport  and  plaything  of  fortune,  and  de- 
votes himself  heart  and  soul  to  the  restitution  of  the  ancient 
name  of  his  house  and  the  long  dormant  honors  of  a  distinguished 
family. 

"We  cannot,"  writes  the  journalist,  "undertake  at  this  late 
hour  to  follow  the  learned  counsel  into  the  minute  enumeration 
he  went  into,  of  small  circumstances  of  proof,  memoranda  of  con- 


THE  FIRST  DAY.  547 

versatious,  scraps  of  letters,  allusions  in  the  course  of  correspon- 
dence, and  so  on  ;  the  object  of  which  was  to  show  that  although 
the  late  Walter  Carew  had  some  secret  reason  of  his  own  for 
maintaining-  a  mystery  about  his  marriage,  that  of  the  fact  of 
the  marriage  there  could  be  no  doubt,  —  nor  of  the  legitimacy  of 
him  who  claimed  to  be  his  heir;  neither  are  we  able  to  enter 
upon  the  intricate  question  of  establishing  the  identity  of  the 
present  claimant;  suffice  it  to  say  that  he  succeeded  in  connect- 
ing him  with  a  number  of  events  from  the  days  of  his  earliest 
childhood  to  a  comparatively  recent  period,  all  corroboratory  of 
his  assumption ;  the  possession  of  the  seal  and  arms  of  his  family, 
his  name,  and,  above  all,  the  unmistakable  traits  of  family  resem- 
blance, being  wonderful  evidences  in  his  favor.  Indeed,  we  are 
not  aware  of  a  more  dramatic  incident  in  the  administration  of 
justice  than  our  court  presented  yesterday,  when,  at  the  close  of 
his  seven  hours'  speech,  full  of  all  its  details,  narrative  and  legal, 
the  able  counsel  suddenly  paused,  and,  in  a  voice  of  subdued  ac- 
cent, asked  if  there  chanced  at  that  moment  to  be  present  in  the 
court  any  of  those  who  once  enjoyed  the  friendship  or  even  the 
acquaintance  of  the  late  Walter  Carew.  He  was  one,  continued 
he,  not  easily  to  be  forgotten,  even  by  a  casual  observer.  His 
tall  and  manly  figure,  the  type  at  once  of  dignity  and  strength, 
his  hold,  high  forehead,  his  deep-set  blue  eyes,  soft  as  a  child's  in 
their  expression,  or  sparkling  like  the  orbs  of  an  eagle ;  his  mouth 
more  characteristic  than  all,  since,  though  marked  by  an  air  of 
pride,  it  never  moved  without  an  expression  of  genial  kindliness 
and  good-humor,  —  the  traits  that  we  love  to  think  eminently 
national;  the  mingled  nature  of  daring  intrepidity  with  a  care- 
less ease ;  the  dash  of  almost  reckless  courage  with  a  still  milder 
gayety,  —  these  were  all  his.  Are  there  not  some  here,  is  there 
not  even  one  who  can  recall  them  ?  And  if  there  be,  let  him  look 
there !  and  he  pointed  to  the  gallery  beside  the  jury-box,  at  the 
end  of  which  was  seated  a  young  man,  pale  and  sickly-looking,  it 
is  true,  but  whose  countenance  at  once  corroborated  the  picture. 
The  vast  multitude  that  filled  the  body  of  the  court,  crowding 
every  avenue  and  space,  and  even  invading  the  seats  reserved  for 
the  Bar,  rose  as  one  man,  and  turned  to  gaze  on  the  living  evi- 
dence of  the  description.  It  would  be  difficult  to  conceive  a  more 
striking  scene  enacted  within  walls  where  the  solemnity  of  the 
law  usually  represses  every  semblance  of  popular  emotion;  nor 
was  it  till  after  several  seconds  had  elapsed  that  the  judges  were 
enabled  to  recall  the  Court  to  the  observance  of  the  rigid  propriety 
of  the  justice-seat. 

"Himself   exhausted    by  his  efforts,  and   really  overborne  by 
feeling,  the  counsel  was  unable  to  continue  his  address,  and  the 


5-18  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

Court,  willingly  granting  an  indulgence  that  his  exertions  amply 
deserved,  adjourned  till  to-morrow,  when  at  ten  o'clock  this  re- 
markable case  will  be  resumed ;  though  it  is  believed,  from  the 
number  of  witnesses  to  be  examined,  and  the  necessary  length 
of  '  the  reply,'  the  trial  cannot  be  completed  before  Saturday 
evening." 


CHAPTER  L. 

A    TRIAL  —  CONCLUSION. 

The  second  day  was  chiefly  occupied  in  examining  wit- 
nesses,—  old  acquaintances  of  rny  father's,  for  the  most 
part,  who  had  known  him  on  his  return  to  Ireland,  and  who 
could  bear  their  testimony  as  to  the  manner  in  which  he 
lived,  and  the  acceptance  he  and  my  mother  had  met  with 
in  the  best  society  of  the  capital.  Though  their  evidence 
really  went  no  further  than  a  mere  impression  on  their  part, 
it  was  easy  to  perceive  that  its  effect  was  most  favorable 
on  the  jury ;  nor  could  cross-examination  elicit  the  slight- 
est flaw  in  the  belief  that  they  lived  amongst  their  equals, 
without  the  shadow  of  aspersion  on  their  honor. 

An  uninterested  spectator  of  the  scene  might  have  felt 
amusement  in  contrasting  the  description  of  manners  and 
habits  with  the  customs  of  the  present  time ;  for  although 
the  evidence  referred  to  a  period  so  recent,  yet  were  all  the 
details  mixed  up  with  usages,  opinions,  and  ways  that 
seemed  those  of  a  long-past  epoch.  Men  were  just  then 
awakening  after  that  long  and  splendid  orgie  which  had 
formed  the  life  of  Ireland  before  the  Union.  With  bank- 
rupt fortunes  and  ruined  estates,  they  saw  themselves  the 
successors  of  a  race  whose  princely  hospitalities  had  never 
known  a  limit,  and  who  had  really  imparted  a  character  of 
barbaric  splendor  to  lives  of  reckless  extravagance. 

A  certain  Mr.  Archdall  was  examined  as  to  his  recollec- 
tion of  Castle  Carew  and  the  company  who  frequented 
there.  He  had  been  my  father's  guest  when  the  Viceroy 
visited  him;  and  certainly  his  account  of  the  festivities  might 
well  have  startled  the  credulity  of  his  hearers.  It  was  not 
at  first  apparent  with  what  object  these  revelations  were 
elicited  by  the  cross-examination ;  but  at  length  it  came  out 


550  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

that  they  were  intended  to  show  that  my  father,  having  no 
heir,  nor  expecting  to  have  any,  suffered  himself  to  follow  a 
career  of  the  wildest  wastefulness.  With  equal  success  they 
drew  forth  from  the  witness  stories  of  my  mother's  unpopu- 
larity with  the  ladies  of  her  own  set  in  society,  and  the 
suspicion  and  distrust  that  pervaded  the  world  of  fashion 
that  she  had  not  originally  been  born  in,  or  belonged  to,  the 
class  with  which  she  was  then  associating. 

It  was  but  too  plain  to  what  all  this  pointed ;  and  although 
old  servants  of  the  family  were  brought  forward  to  show 
the  deference  with  which  my  mother's  position  was  ever 
regarded,  and  the  degree  of  respect,  almost  amounting  to 
state,  with  which  she  was  treated,  yet  the  artfulness  of  the 
cross-examiner  had  at  least  succeeded  in  representing  her 
to  the  jury  as  self-willed,  vain,  and  capricious,  constantly 
longing  for  a  return  to  France,  and  cordially  hating  her 
banishment  to  Ireland.  My  mother's  friendship  and  attach- 
ment to  Polly  Fagan  was  ingeniously  alluded  to  as  a  strange 
incident  in  the  life  of  one  whose  circumstances  might  seem 
to  have  separated  her  from  such  companionship ;  and  the 
able  counsel  dwelt  most  effectively  on  the  disparity  which 
separated  their  conditions. 

These  circumstances  were,  however,  not  pressed  home, 
but  rather  left  to  make  their  impression,  with  more  or  less 
of  force,  while  other  incidents  were  being  related.  To 
rebut  in  some  measure  these  impressions,  Foxley  showed 
that  my  mother  had  been  a  guest  at  the  Viceroy's  table,  — 
an  honor  which  could  not  have  been  conferred  on  her  on  any 
questionable  grounds.  Unimportant  and  trivial  as  was  the 
fact,  the  mode  of  eliciting  it  formed  one  of  the  amusing 
episodes  of  the  trial,  since  it  brought  forward  on  the  witness- 
table  a  well-known  character  of  old  Dublin,  —  no  less  a 
functionary  than  Samuel  Cotterell,  the  hall  trumpeter,  now 
pensioned  off  and  retired,  but  still,  with  all  the  weight  of 
nearly  fourscore-and-ten  years,  bearing  himself  erect,  and 
carrying  in  his  port  the  consciousness  of  his  once  high  estate 
and  dignity. 

It  was  some  time  before  the  old  man  could  be  persuaded 
that  in  all  the  state  and  pomp  of  the  justice-seat  there  was 
not  occasion    for  some  exercise   of   his  ancient   functions. 


CONCLUSION.  551 

He  seemed  ashamed  at  appearing  without  his  tabard,  and 
looked  anxiously  around  for  his  trumpet ;  but  ouce  launched 
upon  the  subject  of  his  recollections,  he  appeared  to  revel 
with  eager  delight  in  all  the  associations  they  called  up. 
It  was  perfectly  miraculous  to  see  with  what  tenacity  he 
retained  a  memory  of  the  festivities  of  old  Viceregal  times ; 
they  lived,  however,  in  his  mind  like  distiuct  pictures,  un- 
connected with  all  around  him.  There  was  a  duke  in  his 
"garter,"  and  a  duchess  in  her  diamonds;  a  gorgeously 
decked  table ;  pineapples  that  came  from  Frauce ;  and  a 
dessert  wine  newly  arrived  from  Portugal,  some  of  which 
Sir  Amyrald  Fitzgerald  spilled  on  Madame  Carew's  dress ; 
at  which  she  laughed  pleasantly,  and,  in  showing  the  stains, 
displayed  her  ankles  to  Barry  Rutledge,  who  whispered  his 
Grace  that  there  was  not  such  a  foot  and  leg  in  Ireland. 
Lord  Gartymore  backed  Kitty  O'Dwyer's  for  fifty  pounds, 
and  lost  his  wager. 

"  How,  then,  was  the  bet  decided,  Mr.  Cotterell? " 

' '  "We  saw  her  dance  the  minuet  with  Colonel  Candler,  and 
my  Lord  said  he  had  lost." 

"  Madame  Carew  was,  then,  much  admired  at  Court?" 

"  She  was." 

"  And  a  favorite  guest,  too?  " 

"  "We  asked  her  on  Wednesdays  generally ;  they  were  the 
small  dinners,  but  many  thought  them  the  pleasantest." 

"  Her  Grace  noticed  her  particularly,  you  say?  " 

"  She  did  so  on  one  Patrick's  night,  and  said  she  had 
never  seen  such  lace  before ;  and  Madame  Carew  told  her 
she  would  show  her  some  still  handsomer,  for  it  had  been 
given  by  the  king  to  her  grandmother,  whom  I  think  they 
called  Madame  Barry,  or  Du  Barry,  or  something  like  that." 

Though  little  in  reality  beyond  the  gossiping  revelation  of 
a  very  old  man,  Cotterell's  evidence  tended  to  show  that  my 
mother  had  been  a  welcome  and  a  favored  guest  in  all  the 
best  houses  of  the  day,  and  that,  living  as  she  did  in  the  very 
centre  of  scandal,  not  the  slightest  imputation  had  been  ever 
thrown  upon  her  position  or  her  conduct. 

The  counsel  probably  saw  that,  not  having  any  direct  proof 
of  the  marriage,  —  when,  and  how,  and  where  solemnized,  — 
it  was  more  than  ever  necessary  to  show  the  rank  my  mother 


552  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

had  always  occupied  in  the  world,  and  the  respect  with  which 
she  was  ever  received  in  society. 

He  had  —  I  know  not  with  what,  if  any,  grounds  —  a  little 
narrative  of  her  family  and  birthplace  in  France,  and  most 
conveniently  disposed  of  all  belonging  to  her,  —  fortune, 
friends,  and  home,  —  by  the  events  of  "  that  disastrous  Revo- 
lution, which  swept  away  not  only  the  nobles  of  the  land,  but 
every  archive  and  document  that  had  pertained  to  them." 

When  he  came  to  my  own  birth,  he  was  fortunate  enough 
to  obtain  all  the  evidence  he  wanted.  The  priest  of  Eath- 
mullen,  who  had  officiated  at  my  christening,  was  yet  alive, 
and  related,  with  singular  clearness  of  recollection,  every  cir- 
cumstance of  that  sorrowful  night  when  the  tidings  of  my 
father's  violent  death  reached  the  village  beside  Castle  Carew. 
Of  those  present  on  this  occasion,  among  whom  were  Polly 
Fagan  and  MacNaghten,  he  could  not  yet  point  to  where  one 
could  be  found. 

There  now  only  remained  to  sum  up  the  evidence,  and 
impart  that  consistency  and  coherence  to  the  story  which 
should  carry  conviction  to  the  minds  of  the  jury ;  and  this 
task  he  performed  with  a  most  consummate  ability,  conclud- 
ing all  with  an  account  of  my  own  visit  to  the  home  of  my 
fathers,  and  the  reception  which  there  had  met  me.  The 
passionate  vehemence  of  his  indignation  seemed  fired  by  the 
theme;  and,  warming  as  he  proceeded,  he  denounced  the 
infamy  of  that  morning  as  not  only  a  stain  upon  the  nation, 
but  the  age,  and  called  upon  the  jury,  whatever  their  decision 
might  be  in  the  cause  itself,  —  whether  to  restore  the  heir  to 
his  own,  or  send  him  a  beggared  wanderer  through  the  world, 
—  to  mark  by  some  expression  of  their  own  the  horror  and 
disgust  this  act  of  barbaric  cruelty  had  filled  them  with. 

A  burst  of  applause  and  indignation  commingled  saluted 
the  orator  as  he  sat  down;  nor  was  it  till  after  repeated 
efforts  of  the  criers  that  silence  was  again  restored,  and  the 
business  of  the  trial  proceeded  with. 

Mr.  M'Clelland,  to  whom  the  chief  duty  of  the  defence 
was  intrusted,  requested  permission  of  the  court  to  defer  the 
reply  to  the  following  day,  and,  the  leave  being  granted,  the 
court  arose. 

I  dined   that  day  with  Mr.  Foxley.     I  would  fain  have 


CONCLUSION.  553 

been  alone.  The  intense  excitement  of  the  scene  had  made 
me  feverish,  and  I  would  gladly  have  felt  myself  at  ease, 
and  free  to  give  Avay,  in  solitude,  to  the  emotions  which  were 
almost  suffocating  me ;  but  he  insisted  on  my  presence,  and 
I  went.  The  company  included  many  very  distinguished 
names,  —  members  of  both  Houses  of  Parliament,  and  men  of 
high  consideration  ;  and  by  all  of  them  was  I  received  with 
more  than  kindness,  and  some  went  so  far  as  to  congratulate 
me  on  a  victory  which,  if  not  yet  gazetted,  was  just  as  cer- 
tainly achieved. 

I  dare  not  trust  myself  to  dwell  on  this  subject;  the 
tremors  of  hope  and  fear  I  then  went  through  threaten  even 
yet  to  come  back  in  memory.  A  few  more  words,  and  I  have 
done.  Would  that  I  could  spare  myself  the  pain  of  these  ! 
But  it  cannot  be  so ;  my  task  must  be  completed. 

I  suppose  that  very  few  persons  have  ever  formed  a  right- 
ful estimate  of  the  extent  to  which  the  skill  and  cleverness 
of  an  able  lawyer  have  enabled  him  to  wound  their  feelings 
and  insult  their  self-love.  I  conclude  this  to  be  the  case, 
not  alone  from  my  own  brief  and  unhappy  experience,  but 
from  reading  a  vast  number  of  trials  and  always  experien- 
cing a  sense  of  astonishment  at  the  powerful  perversity 
of  these  men.  The  cruel  insinuation,  the  imputed  meanness, 
the  perversion  of  meaning,  the  insinuations  of  unworthy 
motive,  are  all  acquired  and  cultivated,  like  the  feints  and 
parries  of  an  accomplished  fencer.  The  depreciation  of  a 
certain  testimony,  and  the  exaggerated  estimate  of  some 
other ;  the  sneering  acknowledgment  of  this,  or  the  tri- 
umphant assertion  of  that ;  the  dark  menace  of  a  hidden 
meaning  here,  and  the  subtle  insinuation  that  there  was 
more  than  met  the  eye  there,  —  are  all  studied  and  prac- 
tised efforts,  as  artificial  as  the  stage-trick  of  the  actor. 
And  yet  how  little  does  all  our  conviction  of  this  artifice 
avail  against  their  influence ! 

Bad  as  these  are,  they  are  as  nothing  to  the  resources  in 
store  when  the  object  is  to  assail  the  reputation  and  blacken 
the  character;  to  hold  up  some  poor  fellow-man —  frail  and 
erring  as  he  may  be  —  to  everlasting  shame,  and  mark  him 
with  ignominy  forever.  Alas  for  the  best  and  purest ! 
what  an  alloy  of  meanness  and  littleness,  what  vanity  and 


554  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

self-seeking  mingle  with  their  very  noblest  and  highest 
efforts.  What  need,  then,  to  overwhelm  the  guilty  with  more 
than  his  guilt,  and  quote  the  "Heart"  in  the  indictment 
as  well  as  the  Crime?  No,  no;  if  the  best  be  not  all 
good,  believe  me  the  worst  are  not  all  and  hopelessly  de- 
praved. I  have  a  right  to  speak  of  these  things,  as  one 
who  has  felt  them.  For  eight  hours  and  more  I  listened  to 
such  a  character  of  myself  as  made  me  sick,  to  very  loath- 
ing, at  my  own  identity ;  I  heard  a  man  in  a  great  assembly 
denounce  me  as  one  of  the  most  corrupt  and  infamous  of 
mankind !  I  felt  the  eyes  that  were  turned  towards  me,  I 
almost  thought  I  overheard  the  muttered  reprobation  that 
surrounded  me.  A  number  of  the  incidents  of  my  change- 
ful life  —  how  learned  I  know  not  —  were  related  with  every 
exaggeration  and  every  perversion  that  malice  could  invest 
them  with.  For  a  while,  a  sense  of  guiltlessness  supported 
me ;  I  knew  many  of  the  accusations  to  be  false,  others 
grossly  overstated.  The  scenes  in  which  I  ;was  often  de- 
picted as  an  actor  had  either  no  existence,  or  were  false- 
hoods based  upon  some  small  germ  of  truth;  and  yet  I 
heard  them  detailed  with  a  semblance  of  reality,  and  a 
degree  of  coherence  as  to  time  and  place,  that  smote  me 
with  very  terror,  since,  though  I  might  deny,  I  could  not 
disprove  them. 

To  stamp  me  as  an  impostor,  and  my  claim  as  a  cheat, 
appeared  to  be  the  entire  line  of  the  defence.  Indeed,  he 
avowed  openly  that  with  all  the  evidence  so  painstakingly 
elicited  by  the  opposite  counsel,  he  should  not  trouble  the 
jury  with  one  remark.  "  When  I  tell  you,"  said  he,  "who 
this  claimant  really  is,  and  how  his  claim  originated,  you 
will  forgive  me  that  I  have  not  embarrassed  you  with  details 
quite  irrelevant  to  this  action,  since  of  Walter  Carew  or  of 
any  descendant  of  his  there  is  no  question  here!  I  will 
produce  before  you  on  that  table,  I  will  leave  him  to  all  the 
ingenuity  of  my  learned  friend  to  cross-examine,  one  who 
shall  account  to  you  how  the  first  impulse  to  this  daring 
imposture  was  conceived.  You  will  be  astounded.  It  will 
be,  I  am  aware,  a  tremendous  tax  upon  your  credulity  to 
compass  it ;  but  I  will  show  to  your  entire  conviction  that 
the  man  who  aspires  to  the  rank  of  an  Irish  gentleman,  a 


CONCLUSION.  555 

vast  estate,  and  an  illustrious  name,  is  a  foreigner  of  un- 
known origin  who  began  life  as  an  emissary  of  the  French 
revolutionary  party.  When  secret  treachery  superseded  the 
guillotine,  he  served  as  a  spy ;  this  trade  failing,  he  fell  into 
the  straits  and  difficulties  of  the  most  abject  poverty ;  the 
materials  of  that  period  of  his  history  are,  of  course,  diffi- 
cult to  come  at.  They  who  walk  in  such  paths,  walk  darkly 
and  secretly;  but  we  may  be  able  to  display  some,  at  least, 
of  his  actions  at  this  time,  —  one  of  them,  at  all  events, 
will  exhibit  the  character  of  the  individual,  aud  at  the  same 
time  put  you  in  possession  of  an  incident  which,  in  all  like- 
lihood, originated  this  extraordinary  action. 

"  There  may  be  some  now  present  in  this  court  sufficiently 
familiar  with  London  to  remember  a  certain  character  well 
known  in  the  precincts  of  Charing  Cross  by  the  nickname 
of  Gentleman  Jack.  To  those  not  acquainted  with  this 
individual  I  may  mention  that  he  swept  a  crossing  in  that 
locality,  and  had,  by  a  degree  of  pretension  in  his  appear- 
ance, aided  by  a  natural  smartness  in  repartee,  attracted 
notice  from  many  of  the  idle  loungers  of  fashion  who  daily 
passed  and  repassed  there.  I  am  not  able  to  say  if  his 
gifts  were  in  any  respect  above  the  common.  Indeed,  I 
have  heard  that  it  was  rather  the  singular  fact  that  a  man 
in  such  a  station  should  be  remarkable  for  any  claim  to 
notice  whatever,  which  endowed  him  with  the  popularity  he 
enjoyed.  At  all  events,  he  was  remarkable  enough  to  be 
generally,  I  might  say  universally,  known ;  and  it  was  the 
caprice  of  certain  fashionable  folk  to  accord  him  a  recogni- 
tion as  they  passed  by.  This  degree  of  attention  was  harm- 
less, at  least,  and  had  it  stopped  at  that  point,  might  never 
have  called  for  any  reprobation  ;  but  modish  follies  occa- 
sionally take  an  offensive  shape,  and  this  man's  pretension 
offered  the  opportunity  to  display  such. 

"You  have  all  heard  of  Carlton  House,  gentlemen, — of 
the  society  of  wits  who  frequent  there,  and  the  charms  of 
a  circle  in  which  the  chief  figure  is  not  more  distinguished 
for  his  rank  than  for  the  gifts  which  elevate  social  inter- 
course. To  the  freedom  which  this  exalted  personage  per- 
mitted those  who  approached  him  thus  nearly,  there  seemed 
to  be  scarcely  any  limit.     Admitting  them  to  his  friendship. 


556  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

he  endowed  them  with  almost  equality ;  and  there  was  not  a 
liberty  nor  a  license  which  could  be  practised  in  ordinary  po- 
lite intercourse  that  was  not  allowed  at  that  hospitable  board. 

"  You  might  imagine  that  men  who  enjoyed  such  a  privi- 
lege would  have  been  guardedly  careful  against  abusing 
it ;  you  might  fancy  that  even  worldly  motives  might  have 
rendered  them  cautious  about  imperilling  the  princely  favor ! 
Not  so ;  they  would  seem  to  have  lost  every  consciousness 
of  propriety  in  the  intoxication  of  this  same  flattery ;  and 
they  actually  dared  to  take  a  liberty  with  this  Prince  which 
had  been  more  than  hazardous  if  ventured  upon  with  a  gen- 
tleman of  private  station. 

' '  The  story  goes  that,  offended  by  his  Royal  Highness 
having  pronounced  marked  eulogium  on  the  manners  and 
breeding  of  an  individual  who  was  not  of  their  set  either 
in  politics  or  society,  one  of  the  party  —  I  am  not  disposed 
to  give  his  name,  if  it  can  be  avoided  —  dared  to  make  a 
wager  that  he  would  take  a  fellow  off  the  streets,  give  him 
ruffles  and  a  dress-coat,  and  pass  him  off  on  the  Prince  as 
one  of  the  most  accomplished  and  well-bred  men  in  Europe. 

"Gentlemen,  you  may  fancy  that  in  this  anecdote  which 
I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  relate  to  you,  I  am  endeavoring 
to  compete  with  the  very  marvellous  histories  which  my 
learned  brother  on  the  opposite  side  addressed  to  your  no- 
tice. I  beg  most  distinctly  to  disclaim  all  such  rivalry. 
My  story  has  none  of  those  stirring  incidents  with  which 
his  abounded.  The  characters  and  the  scene  are  all  of 
home  growth.  It  has  neither  remoteness  in  point  of  time, 
nor  distance  in  country,  to  lend  it  attraction.  It  has,  how- 
ever, one  merit  which  my  learned  friend  might  reasonably 
envy,  and  this  is,  that  it  is  true.  Yes,  gentlemen,  every 
particular  I  have  stated  is  a  fact.  I  will  prove  it  by  a  wit- 
ness whose  evidence  will  be  beyond  gainsay.  The  wager 
was  accepted,  and  for  a  considerable  sum  too,  and  a  dinner- 
party arranged  as  the  occasion  by  which  to  test  it.  The 
secrecy  which  I  wish  to  observe  as  to  the  actors  in  this  most 
unpardonable  piece  of  levity  will  prevent  my  mentioning  the 
names  of  those  most  deeply  implicated.  One  who  does  not 
stand  in  this  unenviable  category  is  now  in  court,  and  I  will 
call  him  before  you." 


CONCLUSION.  557 

Colonel  "Whyte  Morris  was  now  called  to  appear,  and, 
after  a  brief  delay,  a  tall,  soldier-like,  and  handsome  man, 
somewhat  advanced  in  life,  ascended  the  witness-table.  I 
had  no  recollection  of  ever  having  seen  him  before ;  but  it 
is  needless  to  say  with  what  anxiety  I  followed  every  word 
he  uttered. 

The  ordinary  preliminaries  over,  he  was  asked  if  he  re- 
membered a  certain  dinner-party,  of  which  he  was  a  guest, 
on  a  certain  day  in  the  autumn  of  the  year. 

He  remembered  it  perfectly,  and  recounted  that  it  was 
not  easily  to  be  forgotten,  since  it  took  place  to  decide  a 
very  extraordinary  wager,  the  circumstances  of  which  he 
briefly  related. 

"  Gentleman  Jack  was  the  individual  selected  by  a  friend 
of  mine,"  said  he,  "  and  who  should  succeed  in  winning  his 
Royal  Highness's  good  opinion,  so  as  to  obtain  a  flattering 
estimate  of  his  manners  and  good-breeding.  To  what  pre- 
cise extent  the  praise  was  to  go  was  not  specified.  There 
was  nothing  beyond  a  gentleman-like  understanding  that  if 
Jack  passed  muster  as  a  man  of  fashion  and  ton,  his  backer 
was  to  have  won ;  if,  on  the  contrary,  the  Prince  should 
detect  any  anomalies  in  his  breeding,  so  as  to  throw  sus- 
picion upon  his  real  rank,  then  the  wager  was  lost. 

"I  was  present,"  said  the  Colonel,  "when  the  ceremony 
of  presenting  him  to  the  Prince  took  place ;  I  did  not  know 
the  man  myself,  nor  had  I  the  slightest  suspicion  of  any 
trick  being  practised.  I  had  recently  returned  from  foreign 
service,  and  was  almost  a  stranger  to  all  the  company. 
Standing  close  beside  Colonel  O'Kelly,  however,  I  over- 
heard what  passed,  and  as  the  words  were  really  very  re- 
markable, under  the  circumstances,  I  have  not  forgotten 
them."     Being  asked  to  relate  the  incident,  he  went  on  : 

"  Tli ere  was  a  doubt  in  what  manner  —  I  mean  rather  by 
what  name  —  the  stranger  should  be  presented  to  his  Royal 
Highness:  some  suggesting  one  name,  —  others,  a  different 
one;  and  O'Kelly  grew  impatient,  almost  angry,  at  the  de- 
lay, and  said,  '  I) n  it.  call  him  something:    what  shall 

it  be,  Sheridan?'  'The  King  of  the  Beggars,  say  I,'  cried 
Sheridan,  ami  in  a  voice,  as  I  thought,  to  be  easily  heard 
all  around.  'Who  was  he?"  asked  O'Kelly.  '  Bamfield 
Moore  Carew,'  answered  the  other.     '  So  be  it,  then,'  said 


558  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

O'Kelly.  '  Your  Royal  Highness  will  permit  me  to  present 
a  very  distinguished  friend  of  mine,  recently  arrived  in 
England,  and  who,  like  every  true  Englishman,  feels  that 
his  first  homage  is  due  to  the  Prince  who  rules  in  all  our 
hearts.' — 'Your  friend's  name?'  —  '  Carew,  your  Royal 
Highness ;  but  being  a  wanderer  and  a  vagabond,  he  has 
gone  by  half-a-dozen  names.'  The  Prince  laughed,  and 
turned  to  hear  the  remainder  of  a  story  that  some  one  at  his 
side  was  relating.  Meanwhile  the  stranger  had  gone  through 
his  introduction,  and  as  Mr.  Carew  was  in  succession  pre- 
sented to  the  other  members  of  the  company  — " 

"  Was  he  never  addressed  by  any  other  designation, 
Colonel  ? "  asked  the  lawyer. 

"  Certainly  not,  —  on  that  evening,  at  least." 

u  Were  you  acquainted  with  his  real  name?  " 

"  No;  O'Kelly  told  me,  the  day  after  the  dinner,  that  the 
fellow  had  made  his  escape  from  London,  doubtless  dread- 
ing the  consequences  of  his  freak,  and  all  trace  of  him  was 
lost." 

"  Should  you  be  able  to  recognize  him  were  you  to  see 
him  again,  Colonel  Morris?  " 

"  Unquestionably;  his  features  were  very  marked,  and  I 
took  especial  notice  of  him  as  he  sat  at  the  card-table." 

"  Will  you  cast  your  eyes  about  you  through  the  court, 
and  inform  us  if  you  see  him  here  at  present?  " 

The  Colonel  turned,  and,  putting  his  glass  to  his  eye, 
scanned  the  faces  in  the  gallery  and  along  the  crowded 
ranks  beneath  it.  He  then  surveyed  the  body  of  the  court, 
and  at  length  fixed  his  glance  ou  the  inner  bar,  where,  seated 
beside  Mr.  Foxley,  I  sat,  pale  and  almost  breathless  with 
terror.  "  There  he  is !  that  man  next  but  one  to  the  pillar ; 
that  is  the  man  !  " 

It  was  the  second  time  that  I  had  stood  beneath  the  con- 
centrated stare  of  a  vast  crowd  of  people ;  but  oh,  how  dif- 
ferently this  from  the  last  time  !  No  longer  with  aspects  of 
compassionate  interest  and  kind  feeling,  every  glance  now 
was  the  triumphant  sparkle  over  detected  iniquity,  the 
haughty  look  of  insolent  condemnation. 

"Tell  me  of  this  —  what  does  this  mean?"  wrote  my 
adviser,  on  a  slip  of  paper,  and  handed  it,  unperceived, 
to  me. 


CONCLUSION.  559 

"It  is  true!  "  whispered  I,  in  an  accent  that  almost  rent 
my  heart  to  utter. 

The  commotion  iu  the  court  was  uow  great ;  the  intense 
anxiety  to  catch  a  sight  of  me,  added  to  the  expressions  of 
astonishment  making  up  a  degree  of  tumult  that  the  officers 
essayed  vainly  to  suppress.  That  the  evidence  thus  deliv- 
ered had  been  a  great  shock  to  my  advisers  was  easily  seen ; 
and  though  Foxley  proceeded  to  cross-examine  the  Colonel, 
the  statement  was  not  to  be  shaken. 

"  We  purpose  to  afford  my  learned  friend  a  further  exer- 
cise for  his  ingenuity,"  said  M'Clelland  ;  "  for  we  shall  now 
summon  to  the  table  a  gentleman  who  has  known  the  plain- 
tiff long  and  intimately ;  who  knew  him  in  his  real  character 
'of  secret  political  agent  abroad ;  and  who  will  be  able  not 
alone  to  give  a  correct  history  of  the  individual,  but  also  to 
inform  the  jury  by  what  circumstances  the  first  notion  of 
this  most  audacious  fraud  was  first  suggested,  and  how  it 
occurred  to  him  to  assume  the  character  and  name  he  had 
dared  to  preface  this  suit  by  taking.  Before  the  witness 
shall  leave  that  table  I  pledge  myself  to  establish,  beyond 
the  possibility  of  a  cavil,  one  of  the  most  daring,  most  out- 
rageous, and  consummate  pieces  of  rascality  that  has  ever 
come  before  the  notice  of  a  jury.  It  is  needless  that  I  should 
say  oue  word  to  exonerate  my  learned  friends  opposite,  — 
they  could,  of  course,  know  nothing  of  the  evidence  we  shall 
produce  here  this  day  ;  the  worst  that  can  be  alleged  against 
them  will  be,  the  insufficiency  of  their  own  searches,  and  the 
inadequacy  of  the  proofs  on  which  they  began  this  suit. 
I  can  afford  to  reflect,  however,  upon  their  professional 
skill,  as  the  recompense  for  not  aspersing  their  reputation  ; 
and  I  will  say  that  a  more  baseless,  unsupported  action 
never  was  introduced  into  a  court  of  justice.  Call  Count 
Anatole  Ysaffich  !  " 

I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  a  scene,  the  humiliation  of 
which  no  vindication  of  my  honor  can  ever  erase.  For 
nearly  three  hours  I  listened  to  such  details,  not  one  of  which 
I  could  boldly  deny,  and  yet  not  one  of  which  was  the  pure 
truth,  that  actually  made  me  feel  a  perfect  monster  of 
treachery  and  corruption.  Of  that  life  which  my  own  law- 
yer had  given  such  a  picturesque  account,  a  new  version  was 


560  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

now  to  be  heard ;  the  history  of  my  birth  I  had  once  given 
to  Ysafflch  was  all  related  circumstantially. 

He  tracked  me  as  the  ' '  adventurer  "  through  every  event 
and  incident  of  my  career,  —  ever  aiming  at  fortune,  ever 
failing ;  the  hired  spy  of  a  party,  the  corrupt  partisan  of  the 
press,  —  a  fellow,  in  fact,  without  family,  friends,  or  country, 
and  just  as  bereft  of  every  principle  of  honor. 

Ysafflch  went  on  to  say  that,  having  shown  me  Raper's 
letters  and  memoranda  on  one  occasion,  I  had,  on  reading 
them,  originated  the  notion  of  this  suit,  suggesting  my  own 
obscure  birth  and  origin  as  sufficient  to  defy  all  inquiry  or 
investigation.  He  represented  me  as  stating  that  such  ac- 
tions were  constantly  brought,  and  as  constantly  successful ; 
and  even  where  the  best  grounds  of  defence  existed,  they 
who  were  in  possession  frequently  preferred  to  compromise 
a  claim  rather  than  to  contest  it  in  open  litigation.  Though 
the  Count  always  endeavored  to  screen  himself  behind  hi3 
ignorance  of  English  law  and  justice,  he  made  no  scruple 
of  avowing  his  own  complicity  in  the  scheme.  He  detailed 
all  the  earliest  steps  of  the  venture,  —  where  the  family  crest 
had  been  obtained ;  by  whom  it  had  been  engraved  on  my 
visiting-cards.  He  mentioned,  with  strict  accuracy,  the 
very  date  I  had  first  assumed  the  name  of  Carew ;  he  actu- 
ally exhibited  a  letter  written  by  me  on  the  evening  before, 
and  in  which  I  signed  myself  "  Paul  Gervois."  With  these 
matters  of  fact  he  mixed  up  other  details,  totally  untrue,  — 
such  as  a  mock  certificate  of  my  father's  marriage  at  a  small 
town  in  Normandy,  and  which  I  had  never  seen  nor  heard 
of  till  that  moment.  He  convulsed  the  court  with  laughter 
by  describing  the  way  in  which  I  used  to  rehearse  the  part 
of  heir  and  descendant  of  Walter  Carew  before  him ;  and 
after  a  vast  variety  of  details,  either  wholly  or  partially 
untrue,  he  produced  my  written  promise  to  pay  him  an 
enormous  sum,  in  the  event  of  the  success  of  the  present 
action.  Truly  had  the  lawyer  said,  "  Such  an  exposure  was 
never  before  witnessed  in  a  court  of  justice."  And  now  for 
above  an  hour  did  he  continue  to  accumulate  evidences  of 
fraud  and  deception,  —  in  the  allegations  made  by  me  before 
officials  of  the  court ;  affidavits  sworn  to ;  documents  at- 
tested  before  consuls  in  Holland;  inaccuracies  of   expres- 


CONCLUSION.  561 

sion ;  faults  even  of  spelling,  —  not  very  difficult  to  account 
for  in  one  whose  education  and  life  for  the  most  part  had 
been  spent  abroad,  —  were  all  quoted  and  adduced,  as  show- 
ing the  actual  insolence  of  presumption  which  had  marked 
every  step  of  this  imposture. 

The  Court  interrupted  the  counsel  at  this  conjuncture  by 
an  observation  which  I  could  not  hear,  to  which  the  lawyer 
replied,  "It  shall  be  as  your  Lordship  suggests;  though, 
were  I  permitted  a  choice,  I  should  infinitely  prefer  to  probe 
this  foul  wound  to  its  last  depth.  I  would  far  rather  dis- 
play this  consummate  impostor  to  the  world,  less  as  a  punish- 
ment to  himself  than  as  a  warning  and  a  terror  to  others." 

Here  my  counsel  rose,  and  said  that  he  had  conferred 
with  his  learned  friends  in  the  case  as  to  the  course  he 
ought  to  pursue.  He  could  not  express  the  emotions  which 
he  felt  at  the  exposures  they  had  just  witnessed ;  nor  did 
he  deem  it  necessary  to  say  for  himself  and  his  brother- 
barristers,  as  well  as  for  the  respectable  solicitors  employed, 
that  the  revelations  then  made  had  come  upon  them  entirely 
by  surprise.  Well  weighing  the  responsible  position  they 
occupied  towards  the  plaintiff,  whose  advocates  they  were, 
they  still  felt,  after  the  appalling  exhibition  they  had  wit- 
nessed, —  an  exposure  unparalleled  in  a  court  of  justice,  —  it 
would  be  unbefitting  their  station  as  gentlemen,  and  unworthy 
of  their  duty  as  barristers,  any  longer  to  continue  this 
contest. 

A  low  murmur  of  approbation  ran  through  the  court  as 
the  words  were  concluded,  and  the  Judge  solemnly  added, 
"You  have  shown  a  very  wise  discretion,  sir,  and  which 
completely  exonerates  you  from  any  foreknowledge  of  this 
fraud." 

The  defendant's  counsel  then  requested  that  the  Court 
would  not  permit  the  plaintiff  to  leave. 

"  We  intend  to  prefer  charges  of  forgery  and  perjury 
against  him,  my  Lord,"  said  he  ;  "  and  meanwhile  I  desire  that 
the  various  documents  we  have  seen  may  be  impounded." 

On  an  order  from  the  Judge,  the  plaintiff  was  now  taken 
into  custody ;  and  after,  as  it  appeared,  one  or  two  vain 
efforts  to  address  the  Court,  in  which  his  voice  utterly 
failed  him,  he  was  removed. 

36 


562  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

Mr.  M'Clelland  could  not  take  his  farewell  of  the  case 
without  expressing  his  full  concurrence  in  the  opinion  ex- 
pressed by  the  Court  regarding  his  learned  friends  opposite, 
whose  ability  during  the  contest  was  only  to  be  equalled  by 
the  integrity  with  which  they  guided  their  conduct  when 
defence  had  become  worse  than  hopeless. 

The  defence  of  this  remarkable  suit  will  cost  Mr.  Curtis, 
it  is  said,  upwards  of  seven  thousand  pounds. 


A  very  few  words  will  now  complete  this  history.  Let 
him  who  writes  them  be  permitted  to  derive  them  from  the 
public  journals  of  the  time,  since  it  is  no  longer  without 
deep  humiliation  he  can  venture  to  speak  of  himself.  Alas 
and  alas !  too  true  is  it,  the  penalties  of  crime  are  as  stig- 
matizing as  crime  itself!  The  stripes  upon  the  back,  the 
brand  upon  the  brow,  are  more  enduring  than  the  other 
memories  of  vice.  Be  innocent  of  all  offence,  appeal  to 
your  own  heart  with  conscious  rectitude,  yet  say,  if  the 
chain  has  galled  your  ankle,  and  the  iron  bar  has  divided 
the  sunlight  that  streamed  into  your  cell,  —  say,  if  you 
can,  that  self-esteem  came  out  intact  and  unwounded,  after 
such  indignity. 

I  speak  this  with  no  malice  to  my  fellow-men  —  I  bear 
no  grudge  against  those  who  sentenced  me ;  too  deeply  con- 
scious am  I  of  my  many  offences  against  the  world  to  assume 
even  to  myself  the  pretension  of  martyr ;  but  I  do  assert 
that  vindication  of  character,  restitution  to  fair  fame,  comes 
late  when  once  the  terrible  ordeal  of  public  condemnation 
has  been  passed.  The  very  pity  men  extend  to  you  humi- 
liates —  their  compassion  savors  of  mercy ;  and  mercy  is  the 
attribute  of  One  alone ! 

The  "Morning  Advertiser"  informed  its  readers,  amidst 
its  paragraphs  of  events,  "  That,  on  Wednesday  last, 
Paul  Gervois,  the  celebrated  claimant  to  the  estates  of  the 
late  Walter  Carew,  was  forwarded  to  Cork,  previous  to 
embarking  on  board  the  transport-ship  '  Craven  Castle,'  in 
pursuance  of  the  sentence  passed  upon  him  last  assizes,  of 
banishment  beyond  the  seas  for  the  term  of  his  natural  life. 
The  wretched  man,  who    since  the  discovery  that  marked 


CONCLUSION.  563 

the  concluding  scene  of  his  trial,  has  scarcely  uttered  a 
word,  declined  all  defence,  and  while  obstinately  rejecting 
any  assistance  from  counsel,  still  persisted  in  pleading  not 
guilty,  to  the  last. 

"It  is  asserted,  we  know  not  with  what  authority,  that 
the  eminent  leader  of  the  Western  Circuit  is  fully  persuaded 
not  only  of  Gervois'  innocence,  but  actually  of  his  right 
to  the  vast  property  to  which  he  pretended  to  be  the  heir ; 
and  had  it  not  been  for  a  severe  attack  of  gout,  Mr.  Hanchett 
would  have  defended  him  on  his  late  trial." 

Amidst  the  fashionable  intelligence  of  the  same  day,  we 
read  that  "a  very  large  and  brilliant  company  are  passing 
the  Easter  holidays  at  the  hospitable  seat  of  Joseph  Curtis, 
Castle  Carew,  amongst  whom  we  recognized  Lord  and  Lady 
Ogletown,  Sir  Massy  Digby,  the  Right  Hon.  Francis  Malone, 
Major-General  Count  Ysaffich,  Knight  of  various  orders, 
and  Augustus  Clifford,  etc." 

I  was  on  board  of  a  convict  hulk  in  Cork  harbor  from 
March  till  the  latter  end  of  November,  not  knowing,  nor 
indeed  caring,  why  my  sentence  of  transportation  had  not 
been  carried  out.  The  shock  under  which  I  had  fallen  still 
stunned  me.  Life  was  become  a  dreary,  monotonous  dream, 
but  I  had  no  wish  to  awake  from  it ;  on  the  contrary,  the 
only  acute  suffering  I  can  trace  to  that  period  was,  when  the 
unhappy  fate  which  attached  to  me  excited  sentiments  of 
either  compassion  or  curiosity  in  others.  Prison  discipline 
had  not,  at  the  time  I  speak  of,  received  the  development 
it  has  since  attained  ;  greater  freedom  of  action  was  per- 
mitted to  those  in  charge  of  prisoners,  who,  provided  that 
their  safety  was  assured,  were  suffered  to  treat  them  with 
any  degree  of  severity  or  harshness  that  they  fancied. 

The  extraordinary  features  of  the  trial  in  which  I  had 
figured  —  the  "outrageous  daring  of  my  pretensions,"  as 
the  newspapers  styled  it  —  attracted  towards  me  some  of 
that  half-morbid  interest  which,  somehow,  attaches  to  any 
remarkable  crime.  Scarcely  a  week  passed  without  some 
visitor  or  other  desiring  to  see  me ;  and  I  was  ordered  to 
come  up  on  deck,  or  to  "walk  aft  on  the  poop,"  to  be 
stared  at  and  surveyed,  as  though  I  had  been  some  newly 
discovered  animal  of  the  woods. 


564  SIR  JASPER   CAREW. 

These  were  very  mortifying  moments  to  me,  and  as  I 
well  knew  that  their  humiliation  formed  no  part  of  my 
sentence,  I  felt  disposed  to  rebel  against  this  infliction.  The 
resolution  required  more  energy,  however,  than  I  possessed, 
nor  was  it  till  after  long  and  painful  endurance  that  I 
resolved  finally  to  resist.  As  I  could  not  refuse  to  walk 
up  on  deck  when  ordered,  the  only  resistance  in  my  power 
was  to  maintain  silence,  and  not  reply  to  a  single  question 
of  those  whose  vulgar  and  heartless  curiosity  prompted 
them  to  make  an  amusement  of  my  suffering. 

"The  fellow  won't  speak,  gentlemen,"  said  the  superin- 
tendent one  morning  to  a  very  numerous  party,  who,  in  all 
the  joyousness  of  life  and  liberty,  came  to  heighten  their 
zest  for  pleasure  by  the  sight  of  sorrow  and  pain.  "  He 
was  never  very  communicative  about  himself,  but  latterly  he 
refuses  to  utter  a  word." 

"  He  still  persists  in  asserting  his  innocence?"  asked  one 
of  the  strangers,  but  in  a  voice  easily  overheard  by  me. 

"  Not  to  any  of  us,  sir,"  replied  the  turnkey,  gruffly ;  "  he 
may  do  so  with  his  fellows  below  in  the  hold,  but  he  knows 
better  than  to  try  on  that  gammon  with  us." 

"I  must  say,"  said  one,  in  a  half- whisper,  "that,  even 
in  that  dress,  he  has  the  look  of  a  gentleman  about  him." 

"  Good  heavens!  "  exclaimed  another,  "  if  his  story  were 
to  be  true  !  " 

I  know  not  what  chord  in  my  heart  responded  to  that 
sudden  burst  of  feeling.  I  am  fully  convinced  that,  to  any- 
thing like  systematic  condolence  or  well-worded  compassion, 
I  should  have  been  cold  as  a  stone ;  and  yet  I  burst  into 
tears  as  he  spoke,  and  sobbed  convulsively. 

"Ah!  he's  a  deep  one,"  muttered  the  turnkey.  "Take 
him  down  with  you,  corporal ;  "  and  I  was  marched  away, 
glad  to  hide  my  shame  and  my  sorrow  in  secret. 

Various  drafts  had  been  made  of  those  who  had  been  my 
companions,  until  at  last  not  one  remained  of  those  origi- 
nally sentenced  at  the  same  assizes  with  myself.  What 
this  might  portend  I  knew  not.  Was  I  destined  to  end  my 
days  on  board  of  this  dark  and  dismal  hulk?  —  was  I  never 
to  press  earth  once  more  with  my  feet?  How  simply  that 
sounds ;  but  let   me   tell   you,  there  is  some  strange,  high 


CONCLUSION.  565 

instinct  in  the  heart  of  man  that  attaches  him  to  the  very 
soil  of  earth.  That  clay  of  which  we  came,  and  to  which 
we  are  one  day  to  return,  lias  a  powerful  hold  upon  our 
hearts.  He  who  toils  in  it  loves  it  with  a  fonder  love  than 
the  great  lord  who  owns  it.  Its  varied  aspects  in  sunshine 
and  in  shade,  its  changeful  hues  of  season,  its  fragrance 
and  its  barrenness,  are  the  books  in  which  he  reads  ;  its 
years  of  fruitfuluess  are  the  joyous  episodes  of  his  exist- 
ence. The  mother  earth  is  the  parent  that  makes  all  men 
akin,  and  teaches  us  to  love  each -other  like  brethren. 

"  Well,  Gervois,"  said  the  turnkey  to  me  one  morning, 
"you  are  to  go  at  last,  they  say.  Old  Hanchett  has 
argued  your  case  till  there  is  no  more  to  be  said  of  it ; 
but  the  Lords  have  decided  against  you,  and  now  you  are 
to  sail  with  the  next  batch." 

The  announcement  gave  me  neither  pleasure  nor  pain ; 
even  this  evidence  of  Hanchett's  kindness  towards  me  did 
not  touch  my  feelings,  for  I  had  outlived  every  sentiment 
of  regard  or  esteem,  and  lay  cold  and  apathetic  to  whatever 
might  betide  me. 

Possibly  this  indifference  of  mine  might  have  piqued  him, 
for  he  tried  to  stimulate  me  to  some  show  of  interest,  or  even 
of  curiosity  about  my  own  case,  by  dropping  hints  of  the 
points  of  law  on  which  the  appeal  was  grounded,  and  the 
ingenuity  by  which  counsel  endeavored  to  rescue  me.  But 
all  his  efforts  failed ;  I  was  dead  to  the  past,  and  careless 
for  the  future. 

"  Here's  another  order  come  about  you,"  said  he  to  me 
about  a  week  after  this;  "you  are  not  to  be  shipped  off 
next  time.  They  've  found  something  else  in  your  case  now, 
which,  they  say,  will  puzzle  the  twelve  judges.  Mayhap 
you  'd  like  to  read  it,  if  I  could  get  you  the  newspaper?  " 

"  It  were  kinder  to  leave  me  as  I  am,"  replied  I.  "  He 
who  can  only  awake  to  sorrow  had  better  be  let  sleep  on." 

"Just  as  you  please,  my  man,"  rejoined  lie,  gruffly; 
"  though,  if  I  were  you,  I  'd  like  to  know  that  my  case  was 
not  hopeless." 

"  You  fancy  that  it  matters  to  me  whether  my  sentence  be 
seven  years  or  seventy;  whether  I  be  condemned  to  chains 
here,  or  hard  labor   there,  or  mere    imprisonment   without 


566  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

either ;  but  I  tell  you  that  for  the  terms  of  the  penalty  I  care 
almost  nothing.  The  degradation  of  the  felon  absorbs  all 
the  rest.  When  the  law  has  once  separated  from  all  save 
the  guilty,  it  has  doue  its  worst." 

This  was  the  second  attempt  he  made  to  stimulate  my 
curiosity.     His  third  venture  was  more  successful. 

"  So,  Gervois,"  said  he,  seating  himself  opposite  me, 
"they're  on  the  right  scent  at  last  in  your  business; 
they're  likely  to  discover  the  real  heir  to  that  property 
you  tried  for." 

"  What  do  you  mean?"  asked  I. 

"  Why,  it  seems  somehow  there  is,  or  there  ought  to  be 
somewhere,  a  young  fellow,  a  son  to  this  same  Carew ;  and 
if  what  the  newspapers  here  say  be  true,  his  right  to  the 
estate  can  be  soon  established." 

I  stared  at  him  with  amazement,  and  he  went  on. 

"  Listen  to  this:  '  Our  readers  cannot  fail  to  remember 
a  very  remarkable  suit  which  lately  occupied  no  small  share 
of  public  attention,  by  the  efforts  of  a  fraudulent  conspiracy 
to  undermine  the  title  of  one  of  the  largest  lauded  proprietors 
in  this  kingdom.  It  would  appear  now  that  some  very  im- 
portant discoveries  have  been  made  in  America  respecting 
this  claim,  particulars  of  which  have  been  already  forwarded 
to  England.  As  the  parties  who  have  made  these  discov- 
eries may  soon  be  expected  in  this  country,  it  is  not  impos- 
sible that  we  may  soon  hear  of  another  action  of  ejectment, 
although  on  very  different  grounds,  and  with  very  different 
results  from  the  late  one.'  " 

A  very  few  days  after  this  there  appeared  another  and 
still  more  remarkable  paragraph,  copied  from  the  "  London 
Chronicle,"  which  ran  thus  :  — 

"  We  mentioned  a  few  days  back  that  an  estate,  the  claim  to 
which  was  the  subject  of  a  late  most  remarkable  lawsuit,  was 
likely  again  to  furnish  matter  for  the  occupation  of  the  gentlemen 
of  the  long  robe.  There  would  seem  now  to  be  no  doubt  upon  the 
subject,  as  one  of  the  most  eminent  solicitors  in  this  country  has 
received  instructions  to  take  the  necessary  steps  preliminary  to  a 
new  action  at  law.  The  newly  discovered  facts  are  sufficiently 
curious  to  deserve  mention.  The  late  Walter  Carew,  Esq.,  was 
reputed  to  have  married  a  French  lady,  who,  although  believed  to 


CONCLUSION.  567 

have  been  of  high  and  distinguished  rank,  was  no  longer  traceable 
to  any  family,  nor  indeed  to  any  locality  in  France.  There  were 
many  mysterious  circumstances  attending  this  alleged  union, 
which  made  the  fact  of  a  marriage  very  doubtful.  Nothing  cer- 
tainly could  be  discovered  amongst  Carew's  papers,  or  little  to 
authenticate  the  circumstances,  nor  was  there  a  single  allusion  to 
be  found  to  it  in  his  handwriting.  A  singular  accident  has  at 
length  brought  this  document  to  Light ;  and  although  the  indi- 
vidual whose  fortune  it  most  nearly  concerned  has  ceased  to  exist, 
—  he  died,  it  is  believed,  in  the  affair  of  the  Sections  at  Paris, — 
the  result  will,  in  all  probability,  affect  the  possession  of  the  vast 
property  in  question. 

"  The  discovery  to  which  we  allude  is  as  follows :  A  mass  of 
papers  and  family  documents  were  deposited  by  the  late  Duke  of 
Montpensier  in  the  hands  of  certain  bankers  in  Philadelphia,  in 
whose  possession  they  have  remained,  undisturbed  and  unexplored, 
up  to  within  a  few  weeks  back,  when  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  desir- 
ing to  know  if  a  particular  document  that  he  sought  for  was 
amongst  the  number,  addressed  himself  to  the  firm  for  this  pur- 
pose. Whether  success  attended  the  search  in  question  we  know 
not,  but  it  certainly  elicited  another  and  most  curious  discovery : 
no  less  than  that  the  late  Madame  de  Carew  was  a  natural  daugh- 
ter of  Philippe,  Duke  of  Orleans,  the  celebrated  '  F.galite,'  and  that 
her  marriage  had  been  the  result  of  a  wager  lost  by  the  Duke  to 
Carew.  We  are  not  at  liberty  to  divulge  any  more  of  the  singular 
circumstances  of  this  strange  compact,  though  we  may  add,  what 
in  the  present  is  the  more  important  element  of  the  case,  no  less 
than  this  marriage  certificate  of  Walter  Carew  and  Josephine  de 
Courtois,  forwarded  to  the  Duke  in  a  letter  from  the  Duchesse  de 
Sargance,  who  had  accompanied  them. 

"The  letter  of  the  Duchess  herself  is  not  one  of  the  least 
singular  parts  of  this  most  strange  history,  since  it  mentions 
the  marriage  in  a  style  of  apology,  and  consoles  the  Duke  for  the 
mesalliance  by  the  assurance  that,  probably,  in  the  obscurity  of 
Ireland,  they  will  never  more  be  heard  of. 

"  Amongst  the  strange  coincidences  of  this  strange  event,  an- 
other still  remains  to  be  told.  It  was  in  the  hands  of  the  firm  of 
Rogers  and  Paper  that  these  documents  were  deposited,  and  Mr. 
Raper  himself  has  passed  half  a  lifetime  in  the  vain  search  for  the 
very  piece  of  evidence  which  mere  chance  has  thus  presented  to 
him. 

"  Thai  Gervois,  the  celebrated  impostor  in  this  case,  must  have, 
by  some  means  or  other,  obtained  an  insight  into  the  strange  cir- 
cumstances of  this  story,  is  quite  evident,  and  we  understand  that 
the  order  for  his  departure  has  been  countermanded  till  he  be  in- 


568  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

terrogated  as  to  the  amount  of  his  knowledge,  and  the  sources  from 
which  he  derived  it.  Mr.  Raper  and  the  Countess  of  Gabriac,  an 
Irishwoman  by  birth,  are  expected  daily  to  arrive  in  this  country, 
and  we  may  look  forward  to  their  coming  for  the  elucidation  of 
one  of  the  most  curious  stories  in  our  domestic  annals. 

"  There  is  a  story  current  that  Lady  Hester  Stanhope  remem- 
bers, some  years  back,  a  young  man  having  presented  himself  to 
Mr.  Pitt  as  the  son  of  the  late  Walter  Carew,  and  shown  certain 
papers  to  authenticate  his  claim ;  and  as  the  occurrence  took  place 
subsequent  to  the  year  '95,  it  is  evident  that  if  his  pretensions 
were  well  founded,  there  could  be  no  truth  in  the  account  of  his 
having  fallen  in  the  '  Battle  of  the  Sections.'  " 

I  have  no  heart  to  speak  of  how  these  passages  affected 
me.  To  hear  that  my  clear  mother  and  Raper  still  lived; 
that  they  not  only  remembered  me,  but  that  their  deep  devo- 
tion to  my  cause  still  animated  them,  —  was  too  much  to  bear  ! 
Bruised,  and  shattered,  and  broken  down  by  fortune,  this 
proof  of  affection  kindled  the  almost  dead  embers  of  feeling 
within  me,  and  I  fell  upon  my  knees  in  thankful  prayer  to 
Heaven  that  I  was  not  deserted  nor  forgotten !  It  was  no 
longer  rank,  and  wealth,  and  riches  that  glittered  before  me. 
I  sought  for  no  splendors  of  fortune  or  high  estate.  All  that 
I  asked,  all  that  I  prayed  for,  was  an  honorable  name 
before  man,  and  that  love  which  should  once  more  reconcile 
me  to  myself,  —  lift  me  from  the  lonely  depths  of  my  isola- 
tion, and  make  a  home  for  me  with  those  to  whom  I  was 
dear. 

"On  deck,  Gervois,"  said  the  turnkey,  arousing  me  from 
a  deep  revery  a  few  days  after  this  interview ;  "on  deck  — 
here  are  some  strangers  want  to  have  a  look  at  ye." 

I  slowly  followed  him  up  the  ladder.  I  was  weak  and 
sickly,  but  no  longer  dispirited  nor  depressed  ;  a  faint  flick- 
ering of  hope  now  burned  within  me,  and  I  felt  that,  even  to 
the  vulgar  stare  of  curiosity,  I  could  present  the  steady  gaze 
of  one  whose  vindication  might  one  day  be  pronounced.  I 
had  but  touched  the  deck  with  my  foot  when  I  was  clasped 
in  a  strong  embrace,  and  Polly's  voice,  as  she  kissed  me, 
cried,  "  My  own  dear,  dear  boy ;  my  own  long-lost  child  !  " 

Raper' s  arms  were  around  me  too ;  and  another  that  I 
knew  not,  a  white-haired  man,  old  and  sorrow-stricken,  but 
noble-looking,  grasped  my  hand  in  his,  and  said,  — 


CONCLUSION.  569 

"  His  father,  every  inch  of  him !  " 

Poor  MacNaghten !  he  had  come  from  fourteen  years  of 
imprisonment  to  devote  his  first  moment  of  liberty  to  bless 
ami  embrace  me. 

Oh !  you  who  have  known  what  it  is  to  be  rescued  from 
death  when  every  hope  of  life  had  left  you;  who  have  from 
the  storm-tossed  raft  watched  the  sail  as  it  came  nearer  and 
nearer,  aud  at  last  heard  the  loud  cheer  that  said,  "Be  of 
good  courage  —  a  moment  more  and  we  will  be  with  you!  " 
—  even  you,  in  that  moment  of  blissful  agony,  cannot  sound 
the  depth  of  emotion  which  was  mine,  as,  throwing  off  the 
stain  of  the  felon,  I  stood  forth  in  the  pride  of  my  guiltless- 
ness, able  to  say  to  the  world,  See  how  you  have  wronged 
me !  See  how,  confounding  the  weakness  and  the  folly  of 
the  human  heart  with  direct  and  actual  criminality,  you  have 
suffered  the  probable  or  the  possible  to  usurp  the  place  of 
the  inevitably  true ;  have  been  so  carried  away  by  prejudice 
or  by  passion  as  to  sentence  an  innocent  man !  —  see,  I  say, 
that  your  judgments  are  fallible  and  your  tests  are  weak ; 
and  bethink  you  that  all  you  can  do  hereafter  in  atonement 
of  your  error  can  never  erase  the  deep  welt  of  the  fetter  on 
his  limb,  or  the  more  terrible  brand  that  stamped  "guilty" 
on  his  name.  If  you  cannot  be  always  just,  be  sometimes 
merciful ;  distrust,  at  least,  the  promptings  that  disposed 
you  to  condemn,  and  say  to  your  heart,  "  Good  God,  if  this 
man  were  to  prove  innocent !  " 

I  am  now  wealthy  and  rich.  Years  of  prosperity  have 
rolled  over  me,  —  years  of  tranquil  happiness  and  sincere 
enjoyment.  There  is  not  a  day  on  which  I  have  not  to  thank 
Heaven  for  blessings  of  health  and  vigor,  for  the  love 
of  kind  hearts,  and  for  the  affection  of  many  benevolent 
natures.  I  know  and  I  acknowledge  that  these  are  more 
than  the  recompense  of  any  sorrows  I  have  suffered;  and  in 
my  daily  walk  of  life  I  try  to  aid  those  who  suffer,  to  con- 
sole affliction,  and  to  cheer  weak-heartedness.  The  happi- 
ness that  others  seek  and  find  within  the  circle  of  their  own, 
I  look  for  in  the  wider  family  of  mankind,  and  I  am  not 
disappointed. 

Polly  and  Raper  live  with  me.  MacNaghten,  too,  inhabits 
the  old  room  that  once  was  his.    Poor  fellow,  in  his  extreme 


570  SIR  JASPER  CAREW. 

old  age  he  loves  every  spot  that  revives  a  memory  of  the 
past,  and  in  his  wanderings  often  calls  me  "  Walter." 

It  remains  for  me  but  to  say  that  the  singular  events 
which  ultimately  restored  me  to  my  own,  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  royalty.  The  various  details  which  came  out  upon 
the  trial,  with  the  evidence  given  by  the  Countess  of  Gabriac 
and  Raper,  —  all  of  which,  involving  so  much  already  known, 
I  have  spared  the  reader,  —  so  far  interested  the  King  that 
he  expressed  a  desire  to  see  me  at  Court. 

I  hastened,  of  course,  to  obey  the  command,  and  from  the 
royal  hand  received  the  honor  of  knighthood,  his  Majesty 
saying,  "  We  should  have  made  you  a  baronet,  only  that  it 
would  have  been  of  no  use  to  you,  seeing  that  you  are  the 
last  of  the  Carews  of  Castle  Carew." 

Yes,  kind  reader,  and  these,  too,  are  our  last  words  to  you. 
Would  that  anything  in  these  memorials  of  a  life  may  have 
served  to  lighten  a  weary  hour,  or  softened  a  moment  of 
suffering ;  since  to  the  higher  purposes  of  instruction  or  im- 
provement they  lay  no  claim.  At  all  events,  think  of  me 
as  one  too  deeply  conscious  of  his  own  faults  to  hide  or 
to  extenuate  them,  and  too  sincerely  sensible  of  his  good 
fortune  not  to  strive  to  extend  its  blessings  to  others. 
—  Adieu  1 


THE   END. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 

SEP  271966  *? 

DrrEIVEP 

OCT  6     bb    l  rm 

LOAN  UfcPT. 

BE     im 

Tl^01l    e~     ,  n  ,rK                                   General  Library 
?p?7M.i  nT47fiB                              University  of  California 
(t7rf63sl0)47bl3                                                Berkeley 

193075 


j;  ! 


